


Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

by sullacat



Series: Across the Universe [8]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Big Bang Challenge, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Old Married Couple, Older Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-30 13:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullacat/pseuds/sullacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2293. Jim Kirk and his husband Leonard McCoy are enjoying life in San Francisco, respective heads of Starfleet Academy and Starfleet Medical when prospective peace talks with the Klingon Empire (and Spock) thrust Jim back into command of the Enterprise, forcing him to deal with his most hated enemies.</p><p>Jim and Bones are unjustly charged with assassinating the Klingon High Chancellor. Kirk's crew must band together once more to rescue them and uncover a conspiracy that could destroy their last chance for peace – and lead to the destruction of the Earth itself.</p><p>Reboot retelling of 'Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: canon character deaths, canon abuse of Shakespeare. There is mention of past Jim/Carol ala TOS-verse and David Marcus existed in this universe (but he was killed off in an earlier story).
> 
> My contribution to the 2013 Star Trek Big Bang. Please make sure you go look at the art work created for my fic by the amazing [Hopebetterdays](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopebetterdays/pseuds/Hopebetterdays) posted [here](http://xxsteffiexx.tumblr.com/post/65974973563/here-are-my-arts-for-star-trek-big-bang-read)! 
> 
> This story is the conclusion of my Across the Universe series, but it was written to be entirely stand alone. In fact, most of the others were written in 2009 and my writing has gotten immeasurably better since then, so don't feel like you have to look at them at all, lol. 
> 
> A huge thanks to Steamedporkbun/[Winterover](http://archiveofourown.org/users/winterover/pseuds/winterover) for her thoughtful beta work. She makes everything better. ♥
> 
> ♦ At the end of this story is a music mix I compiled to go along with this story. Hope you enjoy!

The game's afoot.  
Henry V, Act I Scene 3

 

* * *

_Stardate 2293.65._

 _Captain's log, USS Excelsior, Hikaru Sulu commanding. After three years, I have concluded my first assignment as master of this vessel, cataloging gaseous planetary anomalies in Beta Quadrant. We're heading home under full impulse power. I'm pleased to report that ship and crew have functioned well._

 

" _Bridge to Captain Sulu._ "

Hikaru Sulu turned his head at the interruption. The chronometer on his desk read 2100, and he had been preparing for bed. "Sulu here. What's going on?"

" _Captain, we have something on screen that you might want to come see._ " 

The message seemed fairly low-key but Sulu knew his crew; they wouldn't interrupt his evening unless it was serious. Quickly changing back into his uniform, he headed back to the bridge, glad to see his Andorian First Officer already there. "Report?" Sulu asked Commander Josa as he sat down in the captain's chair. One look at the view screen told Sulu why he'd been called.

Thirty-five years had passed since the first day Sulu had manned a helm of a starship on his own, the day Nero and the _Narada_ had attacked Vulcan and the fleet. He'd guided the _Enterprise_ through what had been a battlefield of broken ships, saucer sections floating in a junkyard of death. Right now, Sulu was instantly transported back to that day, a comparable level of destruction in front of him - the floating bones of a three Klingon battle cruisers in ruin. "Yellow alert," he said, then added, "Take us closer, Lieutenant." 

They approached the wreckage slowly. Over the past ten years, the level of hostility between the Federation and the Klingon Empire had steadily escalated, and while Sulu knew that the _Excelsior_ was well within the established neutral zone, shit had started with less provocation - and this didn't look good. It was unnerving, being this close to the Klingon ships, not knowing what had done this. "Scan for life signs."

"Scanning." Sulu's science officer shook her head, turning toward the captain's chair. "Negative, Captain."

Josa spoke. "Captain, I recommend that we board the ship and investigate further. Perhaps we can discover-" This didn't surprise Sulu; Josa tended toward wariness. Suddenly two more warships appeared. Klingon Birds of Prey, smaller and more nimble than the battle cruisers, uncloaked amidst the wrecked ships. 

"Red alert," Sulu murmured calmly, standing. He, more than anyone else on board, knew this starship was suited for scientific missions rather than military ones. "Open hailing frequencies." A moment later, Hikaru spoke, loud and clear. "This is Hikaru Sulu, captain of the USS _Exc_ -"

He was immediately interrupted,the flashing black eyes and flaring nostrils of an angry Klingon man filling their view screen. "This is a Klingon matter. You have five standard minutes to leave. If you remain your actions will be considered an act of war."

Sulu could see his crew looking around at each other nervously. Glancing over at Lieutenant Brandt, Sulu nodded at the Communications station, then turned back to the view screen. "This is neutral territory, you have no right to order us out. We merely want to offer our assistance-"

"This is a Klingon matter," the Klingon repeated. "Any further actions will be taken as a hostile act." The face disappeared and Sulu felt the entire bridge crew exhale. 

"Okay then," he murmured to himself, his brow quirking. Hikaru turned to his navigator. "Alert me when four minutes have passed, then begin moving back, reverse thrusters," he said, fairly confident the Klingons wouldn't fire before then. He wanted to give Brandt as much time as he needed. The man was the best he'd ever seen at this (though he'd never admit that to his old friend Nyota). "What have you got for me?"

"Captain, I was able to pick up some coded transmissions between the two ships. They're calling the situation urgent. They believe their ships were destroyed by what they are calling 'a pulse from the probe' - I'm not sure what that means, but they keep referring to this probe." Brandt was quiet a moment longer, listening. "It sounds like they are familiar with whatever this is, they've encountered it before, now one ship is asking permission to track it further into the neutral zone."

"Four minutes, Captain." Sulu looked back at the view screen, wishing he had more time to investigate, or a ship that would give him a fighting chance with these Klingons. "Reverse engines, impulse power," he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Good job, all of you. Now let's get out of here."

 

Sulu settled back into his chair, quiet. Commander Josa approached. "Captain," she began, "I recommend we notify Starfleet of what happened."

"Agreed. I'll do that now." Standing, Sulu headed for this office to draft his communique. "But what exactly was that?" he asked, looking over at his crew.

No one had an answer.


	2. San Francisco

Doubt thou the stars are fire;  
Doubt that the sun doth move;  
Doubt truth to be a liar;  
But never doubt I love.  
Hamlet, Act 2 Scene 2

 

While phylogenetics long ago determined that even the most far-flung species have in fact descended in some hierarchical form from a common ancestor, there will always be those who refuse to see the truth, insisting upon their own uniqueness in this universe. The individual is truly singular, but we are all bound by threads.  
Leonard McCoy, _Comparative Alien Physiology_ (2293)

* * *

The news had been disseminated through the various media channels innocuously enough. The publication of a medical textbook - barely interesting to anyone outside the medical community, nothing out of the ordinary but for the author.

But because the author was so well-known, an administrative assistant from the Office of Public Relations suggested that a lecture and book reading for Academy students would be well-received, and after some prodding and a personal request by Starfleet Academy's Commandant, the author reluctantly agreed.

Soon, however, the Office of Public Relations knew that something was different about this.

It wasn't the topic of the book that drew interest. Learning there was going to be a question and answer portion had people talking, made them curious. Made them want to be there. That chance, the possibility to ask first hand about some of the stories they'd heard from the time they were young. Sha Ka Ree, the Gorn, Pollux IV - names and places ingrained in their collective consciousness, the missions of the starship _Enterprise_. 

But her famous crew themselves were so flung out and spread apart. Rear Admiral James T Kirk, Commandant of Starfleet Academy would stop and talk to anyone if he had the time. Always answering questions, chatting about past missions - even old Jim Kirk hadn't ever spoken publicly at an event like _this_ \- much less the more reserved and circumspect Doctor Leonard McCoy, Branch Admiral and current Head of Starfleet Medical.

It wasn't until the influx of people began sending messages and requesting tickets that the organizers of this event understood how wide the interest ran and a change in venue from the Medical Center Lecture Hall to Starfleet Headquarters’ Great Hall was required. People from as far away as Saturn asked for passes.

 

"You nervous?"

"Go away."

"Like hell." Jim leaned in the doorway of Bones' office, ignoring the creases he made in his crisp red Admiral's uniform. The left side of his chest was covered with his awards and commendations. Rarely seen, but this was a special occasion. "From what I hear, this is the event of the year."

Leonard glared at him, looking like he wanted to run. Sitting behind his antique wooden desk, Leonard's folded hands rested on the top, as if it could shield him from what was about to take place. "This is all your fault." 

"Yep," Jim replied, folding his arms and smiling. "I offer to take all the blame if I can take all the credit later when it goes off brilliantly."

Jim hoped waiting in Bones' office would be less stressful than some conference room at HQ. Glancing around the office, Jim couldn't help but smile at the knick-knacks Leonard kept close to him, the acquired trinkets of a lifetime. Images of Joanna, both as a child and grown with her family lined the bookshelves, next to an image of Leonard's parents. Old-fashioned medical devices (or instruments of torture, as Jim referred to them) lined the walls. That monster trout he'd caught (and had mounted) that time Chekov had taken them all gone back to Russia for some fishing and relaxation. 

None of the diplomas or accolades that others would hang up - just the simple objects that made him happy.

Jim asked once why there wasn't a picture of him there amongst the others, to which Leonard had replied, "Well now, if there was, sweetheart, I'd never get any work done." He'd said it jokingly, but Jim suspected there was some truth there, particularly after spotting a small framed picture of the two of them one day in the top drawer of Leonard's desk. An older image, but one of Jim's favorites as well; two men looking at each other and laughing, taken at the party after they'd exchanged their vows just over thirty years ago.

There was one framed photo that stood out from the others. _What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?_ A simple glass frame etched with that quote, sitting on the table behind Leonard's desk. Jim couldn't remember who'd given it to Bones, but he remembered thinking at the time that it fit him perfectly, in ways most people didn't understand. Bones would never let the possibility of failure stop him from trying, and he'd never give up, something Jim had seen demonstrated dozens of times over their decades together. 

The picture inside the frame… that told a different story altogether. His original bridge crew, taken the last time they were all gathered together, maybe ten years ago, right after his fiftieth birthday. _Looking rather mature_ , Jim mused, unable to get over how Chekov had gone gray. Memories ran back through his head and he nodded at the aptness of the quote. They _had_ been incredible, all of them, done the impossible more times than anyone could count. "You're gonna be fine."

Leonard looked like he wanted to say something, but just then the door opened, and Yeoman Burg, currently assigned as Leonard's assistant, poked his head in. "Admiral McCoy? It's time for us to go."

"Thank you, Rainier." Leonard stood. He took a deep breath. "You coming?" he asked Jim, a hopeful look on his face.

Jim hated disappointing him but, "Can't right now. I've got to meet some dignitaries. They've flown in for some big deal happening on campus today, I don't even know what it's about," he smirked, trying to lighten the mood. 

Rainer looked down, grinning to himself as if he'd seen this sort of behavior between them before. But Leonard's face twisted again. "I hate you."

Jim winked once more, leaning in to kiss Bones' cheek as he followed them out of the building. But before they parted ways, Jim pulled Rainer aside and handed him a flask filled with Leonard's favorite bourbon. "Give this to him if it looks like he's gonna make a run for it, okay?" Jim said, watching Rainer pocket the flask, promising to deliver it before Leonard walked on stage.

 

 

Standing in the wings of the stage, Leonard peeked out behind the curtains and looked at the crowd, larger than he expected. Fuck, there were people actually _standing_ in the back because every seat was filled, even up in the mezzanine.

Unbelievable. 

Someone was introducing him now, a woman's voice thanking everyone for coming. It sounded like she was reading straight off his resume, all the things he'd done, all the places he'd been. Now people were clapping, a hand at his back pushed him forward and Leonard's traitorous feet carried him forward against his will toward the podium in the center of the stage. 

He carried his notes with him, printed out on actual paper - a habit of his that amused his yeoman. 

Nerves wriggled back up into Leonard's stomach, that same tightness in his chest that accompanied transporter travel. At that moment Leonard wanted nothing more than to turn around and walk off the stage - but then he looked up and saw Jim standing against the far back wall. Leonard's hand touched his pocket, a little smile at the feel of the flask there.

 _Jim._

He stood two hundred feet away but Leonard recognized that familiar smirk on his face, even from distance. Jim, always _knowing_ what Leonard was thinking, what he needed right now. Leonard recalling the day they met, God, was it nearly forty years ago now since Leonard first offered Jim that flask, that shuttle ride that changed his life. Jim's hair had gotten thinner, his hairline scooting back a little more each year, but that smirk. It never changed, the one constant in Leonard McCoy's life. Against his will, Leonard grinned back, feeling those nerves ease, the hundreds of people in the room drifting away, and when he looked up all he saw was Jim. Better.

"Evening," Leonard began. "I'm Leonard McCoy," closing his eyes as the applause started again. Shaking his head, he took another deep breath and glanced down at his notes, frowning. An entire page wasted talking about himself, thanking people for coming, a word about the publishers, blah, blah... That offensive first page dropped to the floor next to him and Leonard cleared his throat and read over the next section, the real beginning of his lecture. 

Head up, he peered over the audience for a long minute before speaking. 

"Klingons." 

His voice boomed at the first word, the crowd jumping in their chairs at his tone. Not an unfamiliar sight, as anyone who'd taken a seminar or been disciplined in his department would have recognized. "Physiologically, the Klingonoid biped, or Homo Sagittarii, is primarily distinguished by the sagittal crest on their forehead…"

The audience sat in rapt attention until he finished speaking, about ten minutes later. When Leonard looked up from the edge of the paper, he rubbed his eyes and looked out. Microphones had been set up in the aisles of the concert hall, a small queue of people lined up at each, and Leonard realized that it was time to go off the notes now. "Okay," he said, pointing at a young man dressed in a medical uniform. "You have a question?"

"I do," the young man asked. "Admiral, there's a story that you once got dressed up as a Klingon and participated in the rescue of your captain. Is this true?" Everyone paused a moment, waiting to see what sort of response they would get, whether Admiral McCoy was going to actually talk about those days. 

Leonard took a deep breath, looking down then back up at the young man. "Yeah," Leonard told him. "We were able to replicate some damned good facial prosthetics, and they got us - Spock was the other one who went down with me - they got us both looking adequately terrifying." The audience laughed at that, and even Leonard cracked a grin. "Damn scary too, walking into that room. There were a thousand of them in a big circle, like that old Colosseum in Rome. They were dancin' all around Jim, getting ready to - well, he wasn't there for a party, if you get my meaning." The tension in McCoy's voice was evident - Jim had been very badly hurt, would have been dead if they'd been even an hour later. "But we managed to drop the element of surprise on them, and got him out in the nick of time."

A moment later Leonard looked up and realized that he'd stopped talking. "Anything else?"

"No sir," the young man said. "Thank you, sir."

Okay, that wasn't so bad. The others who had been standing had gone back in their seats, so Leonard cleared his throat and began the next section. "Felinoids posed their own set of problems, unique from those species who developed from primates and insectoids. Three known species of felinoids exist: the Caitians, the Kzinti, and the Vedalan, and even among them, notable differences exist. For example…"

Ten more minutes, and once more Leonard finished his blurb. This time, when Leonard looked up, he wasn't entirely surprised to catch the entire audience smirking, damn them all. _Shit_. Surely no one would ask. Rainer assured him that no one would ask. Jim _promised_ that no one would ask. 

The whole incident with the Caitians was classified 'Top Secret Eyes Only', which of course meant that everyone knew. 

Best to get it over with. Leonard pointed at a young cadet standing at the podium. "Yes, ma'am?" he asked, waiting for it. 

"Admiral McCoy, I'm sure you're aware there's a rumor that's gone on for years about you, about a time when something happened to you," she began, a little nervous.

Leonard sighed. "You mean that time when I was a cat," he deadpanned.

Snickers from the gallery. He was going to kill Jim. "Yes, yes sir. Um, is it true?" she asked before slinking back to her seat. 

Leonard gave her a half-hearted glare, then he looked back to see Jim chuckling in the back. So dead. "Just so we're all clear on this, I'll tell you exactly what happened…" Five minutes later, the audience was in stitches, and Leonard found himself remembering that entire ridiculous incident with more fondness than he expected. "-and so I had to be separated from the other two ensigns who'd been changed into cats too. They were irritating the shit out of me, pardon my language, with their jumping and playing and chewing on my tail. And Jim, I mean, the Captain, he took me back to his quarters on the condition I wouldn't try and run away." Leonard smiled fondly at that memory too. "He took decent enough care of me, from what I can recall. Might've decided to keep him after that."

"You mean I couldn't get rid of you!" he heard Jim call out from the back, and the audience laughed and clapped again. 

"Cats have a different sort of patience. And it's not like I scratched him that bad."

Strictly speaking, Leonard was only allowed twenty minutes per section if he was going to get through this in two hours, but one after another, the questions led to stories that spilled over and the moderator wasn't stopping him. Eventually she stood and announced that it was time for the intermission break, and Leonard noticed the others wanting to ask questions had been sent back to their seats. "Sorry y'all, I might have rambled a bit at that one. I'll try and catch the rest of you after I'm done, all right?" Looking around, Leonard noted that the crowd seeming to understand. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he told them, placing his notes on the podium and heading off stage.

 

Rainer brought him a glass of ice water, into which Leonard poured a quarter of the flask. Sipping on it slowly, he reflected on what the hell he was doing here. This was supposed to be a reading of his medical text, but it felt more like a reflection on the life and times of Leonard McCoy, MD. But this feeling wasn't new. Ever since he'd started writing his book, all those memories of their time in space seemed to flow more freely than usual. Ten years had passed since he and Jim left the _Enterprise_ , when Leonard was offered a chance of a lifetime - to lead Starfleet Medical. At the time, he hadn't planned on taking it, but as always, Jim surprised him by offering to come with him. 

Ten years. During that time, Jim began making his groundbreaking changes to Starfleet Academy, and Leonard pushed for more and more astrobiologic courses at Starfleet Medical, including synthetics (still a hot topic), and an entire department dedicated to xenopsychology. Leonard brought in Healers from New Vulcan to teach and discuss new ways to treat the mind. He and Jim were doing good work here, Leonard knew that, but there were times he looked up into the sky at night and wondered what else was out there, what he might have missed.

It was time to return to the stage. Looking down at his notes, Leonard cleared his throat and began his next passage. "The silicon-based bodies of the Horta were unlike anything previously detected before. Our tools sat useless in our hands, and it humbled me, this lesson that we needed to learn…"

All of a sudden, Leonard's communicator began to vibrate. Strange, he'd set it to go off only in an emergency. He pulled it out of his pocket but continued speaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an older man in uniform stand, making his way to the exit. He spotted Admiral Cartwright also leaving, then Jim's old friend, Admiral Wesley. Leonard looked over to where Jim had been standing - but Jim was gone. "Pardon me," he told the audience, glancing down at the message.

**Emergency meeting at Federation HQ - Conference Room C.**

Below it, there was another message.

**You're doing great, don't leave. Knock 'em dead, Bones. Love you. JTK**

 

 

The huge circular room was full when Jim got there, Admirals and Commanders, every high ranking member of Starfleet available in San Francisco, it looked like. Nodding at several of them, he took his place as Head of Starfleet Academy, seating himself at the large oval table. 

"Admiral Kirk." 

That voice. Jim froze, then turned, grinning widely at his old friend. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" he asked Spock, looking tall and regal in his diplomatic regalia. "Bones is gonna love seeing you. Did Nyota come too?" he asked as Spock took a seat next to Jim.

"She did not. Circumstances have forced her to remain at our home." 

Jim's frowned. It had been three years since they last saw each other, and while Spock wasn't one for great outward emotion, but even for a Vulcan, he seemed a little somber. "Soon, though, we need to get together. You'll come over for dinner tonight, right?" But just then the Starfleet's Commander in Chief, Admiral Smillie entered the room, and everyone took their chairs, falling silent as he stood before them. 

"Good afternoon. I'm sorry to have summoned you all on such short notice, but we've received a report that I felt demanded our immediate attention. Our ambassador on New Vulcan has forwarded messages intercepted between the Klingon High Council and Klingon deep space outposts. They document what is being called a 'space probe' that has been attacking the outposts on the edges of Klingon territory. These messages corroborate our own reports."

The view screens in front of each officer blinked to life, filled with pages of notes and reports. Jim glanced over a few of them, skimming the pages and seeing the same words over and over again. "Sir, has anyone gotten an image of this probe?" he asked, his interest immediately piqued.

"We have not, Admiral Kirk. It appears to be traveling slowly, emitting an intermittent pulse, destroying outposts and several colonies along the way. It disrupts the power supplies to ships that come near, rendering them unable to gather those images. All attempts to communicate with it from a safe distance have been fruitless." Smillie looked around the room, and Jim swore he felt the man's eyes linger on him just a moment too long. "Additionally, we've collected data that suggests two moons in the Omega Leonis sector block have been destroyed, corroborating this information. That would represent a population of approximately four million." 

A voice from the back. "So what you're saying is-"

Smillie took a breath before answering. "This probe appears to be heading for Qo'no's, and now they are asking for our help."

The room got quiet for a moment before breaking into loud and angry conversation. Speaking over the noise, Smillie continued. "We have been approached by the current Klingon High Council's Chancellor Gorkon in an effort to come to some sort of truce. They have been unsuccessful in combating this new enemy and have apparently no way of stopping this probe... and they want our assistance."

A few chuckles in the room, some outbursts. "Sir, am I correct in assuming you have gathered us here today to discuss _aiding_ them?" Admiral Cartwright stood, pointing at the screen. "You want us to send assistance to our enemies, that is what I am hearing?"

"In exchange for our assistance, they will open up Klingon space to the Federation, and cease hostilities along the Neutral Zone. Federation President Ra-ghoratreii has agreed to meet with Gorkon to sign peace accords. So yes, Admiral Cartwright, that is precisely what I am suggesting. This is an opportunity-"

"Klingons are animals." Admiral Cartwright shook his head, tossing his stylus onto the table. "Has anyone considered that this might be the chance we've been waiting for? I say we let this probe destroy them, and then we take the opportunity to go in and clean up afterward. They cannot have access to Federation space. Right, Jim?" 

All of a sudden it got quiet, and Jim felt the eyes on him. Jim Kirk had long been vocal in his contempt for Klingons. Many followed his lead. But he had never actively opposed a chance for peace, and Cartwright's words were filled with a mockery that Jim didn't like. 

He opened up his mouth to speak, but instead Spock's voice rang out as he slowly stood. "I will be taking a ship out to rendezvous with Chancellor Gorkon and escort him back to New Vulcan to formalizing the peace plan and discuss how we can assist them in destroying the probe heading toward Klingon. Admiral Kirk has agreed to return to duty on board the _Enterprise_ and lead Earth's delegation."

 _Leading the peace delegation with the Klingons._ No. Jim's blood froze, and he was certain he hadn't heard correctly, except that this was _Spock_ , of course he heard correctly. Too many years had passed between them for Jim to stand up now and call Spock out on his travesty of a lie - and Spock _knew_ that, was probably counting on it. All the voices in the room faded to a low buzz in his ears and he didn't speak, couldn't speak. 

Everything faded away but his thoughts.

Twelve years. Not a day went by that Jim didn't think about his son David. So much _wasted_ time. David had come into Jim's life when the boy was ten years old and his mother had passed away unexpectedly. He and Bones had taken him to Iowa and given him to Winona to raise, helping Jim heal that relationship as well. They were as close as Jim's work allowed them to be, but months turned into years, and Jim always thought there would be more time to spend with his son, more shore leaves, more extended holidays. 

He'd be thirty-five this year, the same age Jim was when he first learned he had a son. But David had taken a different path, choosing science - but not Starfleet. Jim had taken this as a personal rejection. Then a vengeful Klingon named Kruge had ended David's life at twenty-two, just as it was beginning, in retaliation for something Jim had done, and now, so many years later, Jim deeply regretted each stupid argument, each wasted moment the two men had spent trying to talk over each other. 

It hurt just as bad today as it had the day it happened. 

 

When Jim looked up, the room was empty except for Spock. "What, you have more for me to do?" he asked sarcastically, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

Spock ignored this jibe. "Jim, you must understand. It is imperative we ally ourselves with our former enemies. It is time."

"Excuse me for not feeling the same way about this," Jim replied curtly. "I'm not sure what makes you think that I'm remotely the right person for this. The Klingons hate me, Spock. They've been calling for my extradition since Kruge - disappeared." Standing, Jim approached him, until they stood right in front of each other. "There can be no peace, especially if I'm involved. To them, I am a renegade and terrorist." 

"Not to all of them," Spock replied. "That was a long time ago."

"Starfleet demoted me because of what we did to Kruge. They demoted _Bones_ , hell, they demoted you and your wife! Don't you remember helping me hunt that monster down like the dog he was? Does none of that matter to you?" Spock didn't answer, but he did not take his eyes away from Jim's. "They killed David. You remember my David, don't you?"

"A Klingon killed David, Jim. Not all of them." Jim's eyes burned and he felt his fists balling up, and he wanted to hit someone really fucking hard, a cold anger deep inside, the way he used to get when he was young. "What happened to your son was deplorable." Spock's shoulders slumped slightly. "Jim, I mourned your son. But do not let what happened to him color your judgment on an entire people. They are in danger. They are dying." 

Jim's spine straightened. "Then let them die." It was as if Spock poured salt into that reopened wound, stinging and raw. 

"We cannot do that," Spock told him matter-of-factly, and Jim walked away, irritated that Spock was right. Fuck. It didn't matter what had happened before, or who had died. How much Jim had lost. Ending intergalactic war was bigger than Jim's broken heart. 

But Spock's words still felt like betrayal. "You dangled the ship in front of me, knowing I'd take it." Knowing that somewhere inside Jim, he'd jump at the chance to command her lady again.

"Perhaps." Spock followed Jim to the door. "You said once that you would not let Starfleet fall into the hands of those who would take it away from its mission of exploration. Those who would militarize it. I would remind you of that. Right now, you remind me very much of those we once fought." 

Jim got quiet, remembering that time, remembering other losses. "I'll take you there," Jim told him. "I'll chauffeur you all to your conference. But that's it, that's all you're getting from me."

Spock left the room, leaving Jim with his heavy thoughts. The day had started out so happy, teasing Bones about his big event and now - Jim sat down heavily in the chair again, every bit of his sixty years weighing on his thoughts and suddenly he felt old. Tired. 

But there was no time for grieving. That time had long passed. 

Right now, thanks to Spock, Jim had missed the end of Bones' lecture and now he had to prepare for a new mission.


	3. New Vulcan

Now cracks a noble heart.  
Good-night, sweet prince;  
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.  
Hamlet, Act V Scene 2

 

The Vulcan brain is a sight to behold.  
Leonard McCoy, _Comparative Alien Physiology_ (2293)

* * *

  
This mission was diplomatic in nature, but everyone on board the _Enterprise_ felt the sense of urgency associated with it. The _Enterprise_ was set to dock at New Vulcan's spacedock in two days. After a day on the planet, they would depart with Old Ambassador Spock, leading the Vulcan delegation. It was the elder Spock who would make the formal request to Chancellor Gorkon for a cessation of hostilities between the Federation and the Klingon Empire. 

Jim had not changed his mind regarding participating; his presence (and lack of formal opposition) would have to be enough for them.

It would take a week at warp 8 to make it to Natara, the planet used to colonize New Vulcan. They could have made it faster by skirting closer to the Neutral Zone, and Spock insisted that hostilities had decreased. But Jim wasn't about to trust his ship to some supposed peace plan, not just yet… and in truth, probe or not, he was not in any hurry.

His ship. They'd been on board five days now, and already it felt like he'd never left her decks. The crew was different, of course, the occasional familiar name here and there but most of them young and fresh, faces he had last seen wearing Cadet reds. "I swear, I have scars older than some of these kids," Jim groused one evening, pushing a fork around his plate. He and Leonard hosted Spock and Scotty for dinner in their quarters, reliving some old memories. Pointing at his elbow, Jim pushed up the fabric of his undershirt. "This one right here. Got it when I was ten." Fifty years ago, driving a car off a cliff. Hard to remember ever being that young and stupid. "This scar is older than anyone on my bridge crew, present company excluded."

Bones rolled his eyes predictably, but it was Scotty who spoke for everyone. "Pardon my French, Admiral Kirk sir, but compared to the rest of us, you're still a fuckin' infant." A year away from seventy, Scotty's hair was even thinner than his own, but his eyes still burned like those dilithium crystals he cherished. He'd been the only one of his original team who'd stayed on, even when she'd been turned into a training ship, and anytime Jim thought about the _Enterprise_ as his special lady, he had to acknowledge that she had another lover, one who had remained faithful and never left her.

"I certainly don't feel like an infant," Jim admitted to Scotty, taking their cups of coffee to the living area as Bones and Spock cleared the plates. They settled on two comfortable chairs, both men able to look out of the small window the captain's quarters afforded them. "I recognize that I'm about halfway through my life, especially with that one over there watching every bite I take-"

"Not every bite, I know you got those snack cakes in your desk…" Bones called out, before resuming his conversation with Spock.

Jim ignored this. "As I was saying," he grinned, "I mean, I know we got started young. Hell, I don't think I'd stand by quietly today and watch them give any ship, much less the flagship to a twenty-five year old dumbass like I was. What does that mean?"

"It means, my dear Admiral, that you're human, and don't think I don't see that look on your face over there, Ambassador Spock, sir. It is a proud and noble thing indeed, for a man to look back at his life and his decisions… and to dream of those adventures yet to come." There was a sadness in Scotty's voice that Jim hadn't ever heard before. Jim was about to ask what was wrong when Scotty continued. "Wipe that worried look off your faces, it's not as bad as that. But," Scotty sighed heavily in his chair, "I got the memo just a week ago. They're decommissioning her. In all likelihood, this will be the last run of the _Enterprise_." 

That news hit Jim harder than he anticipated it would. It wasn't completely unexpected - she was thirty-five years old, not the oldest ship in the fleet, but she'd lived a hard life under Jim and her subsequent captains. "I'm sorry, Scotty," Jim told him, a sinking feeling inside. "What are you going to do?"

"To be honest, sir, I'm not sure. There are new ships that they want to send me to, but I cannae think about that right now. Jim," Scotty said, leaning over toward him, "I know that this mission, what you're doing feels wrong to you. But I want to thank you, for giving our girl one last glorious trip. This grand lady's seen so much, it does my old heart proud to know she's a part of this mission. She'll make history once more." 

It took Jim a moment to speak. "Thank you," he told his old friend. "I think I needed to hear that tonight. To remember…" To remember what it was like out here, what this ship was made for. Exploring. Discovering. This peace plan would only bring more of that. "And if you ever feel like planting your feet on the ground, you've got a job at the Academy, anytime."

Leonard and Spock rejoined them, just in time to hear Scotty laughing. "Thank you, my dear Admiral Jim," he said, "but I've lived my life out here among the stars. I won't be leaving them anytime soon."

 

 

Vulcan had been markedly hot and dry. In keeping with that, Old Spock had chosen another desert planet to resettle his people, but the capital city of Sha'Kwai was located on the edge of a large ocean, providing a humidity that Jim felt the moment he stepped off the shuttle from the space dock.

A car and driver met them, an elegant and spacious sedan that reminded Jim again of how influential Spock was among his people. Jim and Leonard would be staying the night with Spock and Nyota at his family's estate, before leaving the following afternoon with the older Spock in tow in preparations for their rendezvous with the Klingons. 

New Vulcan was a bustling planet. On the one hand, it wasn't hard to see that it had been settled less than forty years ago. Every building looked new and shiny, the city bustling with the energy of a young people and a young culture. The Vulcans who had been left after Nero destroyed their planet worked together with extraordinary intensity to remake their home. 

But what did surprise Jim was the number of non-Vulcans living and working here. As they drove through the city in that spacious car, he spotted several establishments that clearly catered to the non-Vulcans, restaurants and shops and markets that would have been sorely out of place on the old planet. There had been talk of the 'diluting of Vulcan' but it only made sense that ten thousand people could not recreate the sort of large scale economy that had previously existed. For the first time, Jim was really seeing first hand what they had been talking about. 

Joanna and the kids were here now too, stationed at a colony nearby. Jim knew that Bones wanted to see them as much as he did, and that part made this whole trip worthwhile. 

 

"Welcome to my home," Spock told them as the car drove into the high stone gates, pulling out in front of the large stone house. "Thank you again for coming. He has been most anxious to speak with you," he said as they exited the car, following him inside. Jim knew who Spock was talking about and without another word, Spock turned and began walking toward the back of the house. 

Having changed back into his Ambassadorial robes, Spock looked like he belonged here in the desert heat. The older he got, the more Vulcan he seemed to Jim; not losing his humanity, but gaining more in his Vulcanness. They followed Spock through the house until they reached a large garden area in the center of the home, under a giant skylight. It reminded Jim of the peristyles in the old Roman villas. The fountain in the center, tall green plants in the corners, colorful African art on the walls - Jim was happy to see Nyota's influence everywhere. 

Jim's face broke into smile when he saw Nyota, seated on a low sofa next to the Ambassador. "How come we all get older and you just stay the same?" he asked, walking toward her as she stood and approached them, pulling her into a warm hug. "Hey beautiful."

"Jim," she said, kissing his cheek before turning toward Bones and doing the same. "Leonard. You two are a sight for sore eyes," she told them, taking both their hands in hers. "How is your family?" she asked, hugging them again. 

Jim turned to Bones, letting him field that one. "They're good. Recently settled near here," he told her, smiling. "We'll be seeing them in the morning. The boys are getting used to eating more vegetables," he laughed. "And your children?" he asked. "How are your kids doing?"

Jim saw Spock's back stiffen slightly. "Everyone is well," Nyota said warmly, but there was a shadow in her eyes. "We'll talk later," she told them, squeezing his hand as they all settled into comfortable chairs near the Elder Spock. 

If his Spock was becoming more Vulcan, in contrast Spock the Elder seemed more _human_ , as if finally comfortable embracing that part of him. Jim felt himself being assessed by the older man, cloudy eyes looking over him with fondness. But Jim couldn't help that feeling whenever he spoke with the elder Ambassador Spock, a sense of disappointment in some of Jim's choices. That he wasn't exactly like that other Jim Kirk, that he had chosen a different path.

Married a different man. 

His own Spock had assured him on more than one occasion that the elder Vulcan had never expressed that sentiment. Maybe it was Jim's own insecurity talking. But it was good to see him. "Ambassador," Jim turned his chair to face him. "You wanted to talk to me." 

"I did," Spock replied. His voice softer than the last time they spoke, and Jim noticed how tired he looked. "I have a favor to ask you, old friend." Reaching out, the elder Spock took Jim's hands in his own, and Jim could feel the weariness and the worry transferring through the touch. "A great favor, and I fear this will damage our friendship, which I treasure above all others."

Glancing over at Bones, Jim's face furrowed in confusion. His own Spock moved to stand behind his counterpart, and all of a sudden Jim got the feeling he was being cornered. "What are you talking about?" 

"The peace, Jim. I need you to make peace with Gorkon."

"What are you talking about?" Jim asked, indignantly shaking his head. "No, that's your job. You're going to do all the hand shaking and signing of treaties. You're the diplomats, you two. I'm just the guy who fights the battles so you can have your peace."

Spock looked down, as the Elder Spock shook his head. "I'm afraid I won't be able to sign the treaty this time, Jim." The Elder Spock's hands folded neatly in his lap, but there was a resignation in his voice. "You will."

"No," Jim told them, his voice rising. "I told you I wasn't doing this. I'll get you there and stand in the back of the room, with my mouth shut so it looks like I'm on your side, but I'm not doing any more than that. Find someone else."

"But there is no one else, Jim," Old Spock insisted. "It must be you who goes to the Klingons to offer the assistance of the Federation. You understand the Klingon mentality, Jim, better than anyone. They are strong and proud warriors who respect strength and power. Only when they see that someone who has fought them valiantly and bravely, as you have, wants this peace and offers this peace," Spock's voice quivered slightly, "only then will the old warriors trust us, and we must have their trust, Jim. We _must_ have peace with the Klingons. You must do it."

Fuck. "No," Jim repeated, his voice low. "I don't have to do shit."

Even Bones winced at Jim's words, and Jim knew he might have gone too far. 

But the Elder Spock kept talking. "Jim, you cannot simply stand in the back of the room. Circumstances have changed. We must move forward, not only for their well-being," he looked up at Spock, who nodded, "but for our own."

Jim watched Spock's face, still impassive. "Why?" he asked warily.

This time it was the younger Spock who spoke. "A second probe has been detected heading into Federation territory. We are told its current trajectory has it heading toward Earth."

Jim stared at them both. "What- Why don't we know about this already?" he heard Leonard ask indignantly. "No one's spoken of any probe heading toward us?"

"Because the Federation doesn't know," Old Spock said, his voice heavy with regret. "I obtained this information from the Klingons, in great confidence, as a show of good faith. I gave my word that I would share this information with Starfleet only when the treaty was made, and our help to them was offered." 

Another probe, like the one destroying Klingon outposts and colonies. "That's not honor, that's blackmail," Jim said bitterly. "You won't keep this a secret, Spock. Millions of people could die-"

"But they won't, Jim, because you will make the treaty." 

"You are the one who's been talking to Gorkon. I don't see why-"

"Because I am dying, Jim." Jim saw Nyota's hand took the Elder Spock's, a sad look on her face as she turned to Jim, and he saw the truth in her eyes. "I don't have much longer," the older man said with a sad finality in his voice.

Jim didn't know what to say, and neither did anyone else, judging by the silence in the room. "What's to keep me from contacting Starfleet right now and telling them this?" he asked, his voice low.

"Only your honor, Jim," the Elder Spock said, "and my great hope that you value my own honor more highly than your own. But even if you do contact Starfleet, they won't know where to look. Space is vast, my friend, and I don't know the location." 

"So we're all trusting that they're telling us the truth."

"Yes, Jim. If we can't trust them, then none of this matters."

One thought entered his head - that all of this had happened before. The real reason Spock was so damned sure. "Did the other Jim do it?" Jim heard Nyota gasp, and he could see that remark cut Spock, who remained silent. "Of course he did, that perfect Jim of yours. He made the peace and saved the planet. Well tell me this, Spock. Did he lose a son to them like I did? Did they kill his son too?" 

More silence, only the sound of the water splashing in the fountain. He heard Bones say his name quietly, saw Nyota wipe a tear from her eye. Finally, after a long moment, the older Spock nodded slowly, looking him in the eye. "Yes, Jim. As a matter of fact, he did." 

Everyone looked stunned. "What?" Bones asked, incredulous, and all Jim could feel was that emptiness inside him again. 

Old Spock sighed. "David Marcus existed in my universe. The situation was different of course." Looking at Bones, Old Spock added, "When I learned that you took the boy in as a child, I had hoped for a different outcome, that your David's fate would be different." 

"Why have I never heard of this before?" Jim asked, his voice low and cold.

Old Spock shook his head. "How could I tell you that, Jim? It would not have mattered." 

"You don't know that," Jim spat back. "I could have protected him better, I could have…" But he stopped. What could Jim have done different? "I can't do it, Spock. I won't, not with those people."

The Elder Spock sighed in his chair. "Then I have failed at my most important mission," he told them, and closed his eyes.

 

 

After that talk, everyone went their separate ways for a while. Nyota made sure the older Spock got back to his rooms, and Jim went off on his own for a while to think. Leonard understood - couldn't be married for thirty years to someone and not understand their body language. There had been a time in their lives when that look on Jim's face meant a bar fight. Now, Leonard knew he needed to go off and burn off that fire inside somehow. He'd come back when he was ready to talk. 

 

 

Dinner that night started off quiet. Jim and Leonard joined Spock and Nyota and their three children. Fascinating, how different Spock's two sons seemed from him and each other. Sovar, the eldest, had taken a position with the Vulcan diplomatic corp, working inside the Ministry, while young Taron would be entering the Science Academy the following year. Valeris, Spock's distant cousin and their adopted daughter, was the same age as Sovar. She among his children chose Starfleet, following in Spock's footsteps. There was something akin to pride in Spock's voice when he described her accomplishments. "You might remember, Jim, that Valeris was the first Vulcan to graduate at the top of their class." Leonard had seen her on board the _Enterprise_ , where she currently served as a Science officer.

"I recall," Jim said wryly, winking at Nyota. "I always wanted to ask why that honor hadn't fallen to you, Spock. You were quite the scholar from what I remember. Your children have all followed suit," he added, "though I'm positive that is due to Nyota's influence."

"Jim, you're incorrigible," Nyota told him, her hand resting on Sovar's for a moment before she pulled it back. "But yes, all my children have found their niches, it seems."

"Your father tells me that you are considering medicine," Leonard asked Taron, enchanted with how the young man favored his mother, but with those stoic Vulcan expressions. 

Taron nodded. "The study of healing, particularly amongst Vulcans, would be quite the challenge, but I would welcome that."

"Not that you'll need that expertise much longer, the way things are changing here," Sovar said quietly as he ate. Nyota and Spock looked over at him, then at each other. 

"Not tonight, Sovar," Spock murmured, taking a drink.

"I mean no disrespect toward our guests, Father." Sovar continued, his voice calm and level. But there was a glint in his eyes, something hard that Leonard hadn't ever seen in Spock or Nyota. "But you cannot deny the crisis that has developed in the midst of your glorious prosperity. Vulcans, true Vulcans are becoming an endangered species and I am curious as to what Starfleet's opinion is on what is happening here. It was my understanding that we were a founding member of the Federation. Surely that must mean something."

"And you still are," Jim told him, confusion on his face. "I'm sure my opinion does not constitute what Starfleet or the Federation thinks about anything happening here."

But that didn't satisfy Sovar. "Admiral Kirk, are you aware that for the past decade, fifty out of every thousand births on this planet are from a pairing that includes a non-Vulcan? That number has grown exponentially every year of this colony's existence."

"A number that includes yourself, I believe," Jim said lightly, and Leonard noticed Nyota's face coloring slightly. "Your lovely mother is human."

Sovar glanced at her, nodding respectfully. "I acknowledge this," he told them, his voice softer but no less sharp. "But at this rate, you cannot deny that what is left of Vulcan, the purest Vulcan culture and bloodlines will be lost forever in less than a hundred years." 

"From a genetic perspective, that's not necessarily a bad thing," Leonard said, elbow on the table as he leaned in. "Bloodlines don't make a culture."

"You will understand if I disagree," Sovar told him dismissively. "We're two generations from disintegrating into the mongrels of the galaxy-"

"Sovar!" Spock snapped, his voice sharp as he looked at his son. "We are not discussing this now."

"No, Father, you're perfectly content flying through space, exploring while everything that once mattered to you disappears. The House of Surak might as well have died out that day." Standing, he wiped his mouth on his napkin, dropped it on his plate and left the table. 

Spock stood, but Nyota shook her head. "Let him go," she told Spock. "My son is very passionate about this issue. He loves his heritage, both sides," she assured them. "He's just afraid of losing a culture and a way of life he treasures."

Leonard had hoped to keep the conversation off what had happened that morning, but this was a direction he hadn't expected. Turning toward Spock, he tried to change the subject. "I was disappointed that your father isn't here, Spock. I was hoping to give him my regards."

"He will be sorry he missed you," Spock replied, his demeanor calm again, back to normal. "My father is away right now, currently making entreaties among the Romulans." 

Leonard saw Jim's ears perk up at this bit of news. "The Romulans?" Jim asked, looking incredulous. "First Klingons and now Romulans?" 

"Even before Vulcan had been approached by the Klingons regarding peace, there had been talk regarding allying ourselves with the Romulans. One cannot dispute their desire for more formalized relations after centuries of isolationism." 

"Yeah," Jim nodded. "Surprised the hell out of me when they opened an embassy in San Francisco." Jim glanced around the table then back at Spock. Leonard could see everyone, including Spock's children, intently listening to them speak. "Forgive me for asking this, Spock, but don't you guys still hate each other? Or have I missed something in the last couple decades." 

"There is still a certain amount of _animosity_ that exists between our two species. The events of 2258 created a hostile feeling toward Romulans in general in some, but most Vulcans have logically seen that what happened was the result of rash and emotional revenge of a troubled individual against one of our own." 

"So why is your father trying to make nice with them?" Jim continued.

Spock took a bite from his plate. "Perhaps you're familiar with the old Vulcan proverb - 'Too many cooks spoil the broth'." Spock wiped his mouth with a napkin, glancing at Nyota before continuing. "It can be difficult for my Father having two of me around, particularly when one of me is older than he is, and occasionally reminds him of that."

"It's not as bad as that, Spock," Nyota chided him. "But they both have strong personalities, and both can be quite stubborn."

Spock glanced at her fondly. "Regardless of how it began, there has been important fruit borne from his discussions. For example, it has come to our attention that the Romulans have made overtures to the Cardassians."

That shocked Leonard, and from the look on Jim's face, him as well. "I didn't think the Cardassians made nice with anyone." The Federation was aware of the Cardassian Union, but no formal diplomacy existed, in Leonard's opinion, mostly because the Cardassians appeared to be paranoid and cruel.

Valeris cleared her throat. "I believe that is what Grandfather Sarek is trying to determine." Spock looked on at her proudly, nodding his head. 

Leonard understood that much, though he could see confusion written across Jim's face. "Spock, what is all this business with treaties and alliances coming from?" 

"The politics of the current generations can be seen as being split into two camps. The more conservative branch, which included my eldest son, favors a more insular path. They prefer Vulcans remaining as pure to our Vulcan tenets as possible, even if that means eschewing Federation assistance. Strong Vulcans for a strong Vulcan. Then there are those who see that Vulcans cannot exist in a vacuum, and if our culture is going to survive into the twenty-fourth century, we need to spend our time and resources on rebuilding the economy and promoting commerce, not on militarization or wars." 

It was clear which side Spock fell on. "Hence this Klingon treaty," Leonard murmured. 

Spock nodded, but it was Nyota who answered. "Most Vulcans would welcome this treaty, Jim. The animosity that has existed in the past is lessening, and the idea of new markets to sell our goods is hard to turn down."

"Okay, so I get all of that," Jim told them, looking a little more defeated than Leonard had seen him in years. "What I don't get is what I am doing here. I'm their enemy. Between you and Old Spock, you've got it covered. You don't need me."

"It is because you fought them, Jim, that we need you," Spock answered. "Because in the end there are diplomats and there are warriors, and without a warrior leading us, all our words fall on deaf Klingon ears. And yes, Jim, it must be you, you and your ship. _You_ have to be the one to do it. Your gravitas is what's needed to push it through."

Leonard opened his mouth to speak, but Jim cut him off. "Maybe you missed it the first time I said it, but I don't want this to happen. Unlike you, I can't forgive them for their past transgressions, for what they did to me and my family." 

"Jim," Nyota began, but he shook his head, stopping her. 

"I am allowed to hate them," Jim told them all, his voice low. Leonard reached out, touching Jim's hand, and he could feel the slight tremor as Jim continued. "If they all died off, I would not mourn them. Not one. Klingons killed my son, and a piece of me died that day, and no treaty or diplomatic hocus pocus is going to bring him back."

"It won't." Spock's face didn't change, though the tone of his words softened. "But you will do this for us."

Jim nodded. Leonard reached out and covered his hand, watching as Nyota stood and walking over to where Jim sat. Wrapping her arms around him, she said, "Thank you for this." 

 

Both of them were still quiet that night as they made their way to bed in Spock's generous guest quarters. Worried, Leonard broke the silence first. "You okay, Jim?" he asked, his hand reaching for Jim's after they both slid under the covers. 

It was a moment before Jim answered. "I don't know," he said, and Leonard could hear the weariness in Jim's voice, a tired sound that few people ever heard. "There's nothing wrong," he told Leonard, looking up at him with eyes that looked a hundred years old. Still the same amazing blue eyes, even if the face had changed a little since the day they first met. "I mean, I'm okay." 

But he wasn't. Jim's heart had never quite healed since David's death and today had just brought back all the memories of that terrible time. Pulling Jim close, Leonard's arms wrapped tight around him, that familiar body fitting against his perfectly. 

Of course, it wasn't the same body he remembered from years ago - hell, both of them were older now, soft in places that used to be firm, gray hair in places there wasn't hair before. But Leonard had loved this body for half of his life, knew it better than his own. Every scar, every freckle, every new wrinkle that showed up was cataloged and kissed and committed to memory. "You don't have to do this, Jim." Leonard would back him up, whatever decision Jim made. The two of them against the universe.

Another long moment. "Yes, I do." 

It broke Leonard's heart to hear the defeat in Jim's voice. "I love you, you know that?" Leonard told him, nuzzling against Jim's throat. "You are the bravest man I have ever met, Jim Kirk." 

"Couldn't do any of this without you," Jim murmured, their arms winding tighter around each other. "I'm glad you're here with me, Doc."

Leonard pulled him closer. "Like I'd let you out of my sight." It was always easier like this, couching his tenderness in gruff words, but Jim knew what he meant, what was in his heart. He felt Jim's hands start wandering around his body, trailing along his sides and down his front, not stopping until they slipped inside his briefs. "Jim," Leonard growled softly, but then Jim's mouth was on his and they were kissing and touching and all the world around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them and this bed.

This, this was always good between them. A different sort of healing. 

 

The next morning Jim and Leonard borrowed one of Spock's automobiles and headed out to the small settlement about a hundred kilometers from Sha'kwai, where Leonard's daughter Joanna lived with her family. Valeris told them over breakfast that morning that the non-Vulcans tended to live in communities away from the city. "In the past, _Shavokh_ have preferred to stay among their own kind, though that is changing."

" _Shavokh_?" Leonard asked, sipping his hot tea while he and Jim ate toasted bread and fruit.

"It is the word we use to describe those non-Vulcans who have made their home on the planet." 

"It translates to a 'desert vulture'," Jim told him with a hint of irritation in his voice. 

" _Shavokh_ may purchase land more freely in these communities, without the typical restrictions placed on non-Vulcans - another cause of concern among the more conservative Vulcans. But there are not enough of us to populate this land without welcoming new blood." Valeris looked a little pained. "I assure you, there are no negative connotations to that word, not anymore. Perhaps in the beginning," she admitted. "But Mother was correct last night when she said that more Vulcans understand the need for opening up to more commerce. My brother worries that all our best students will head for Starfleet or other immediate opportunities rather than stay and rebuild our own military and infrastructure."

"Is that what you did?" Leonard asked, curious.

"I followed my father's path," Valeris replied crisply, a hint of pride in her voice. "My dream has always been to command a starship. As the Vulcan space program has not regained its full complement of ships, my best opportunity to do so would be within Starfleet." She sipped her own hot tea. "It is logical."

 

 

It didn't take them long to find Joanna's home, a sprawling ranch that stood in stark contrast to the more compact units nearby. Also - "Are those horses?" Jim asked, chuckling to himself as they pulled onto the unpaved road leading to her house. "Trust that girl to find a way to bring horses to New Vulcan. I bet they had a fit when she got them on the ship."

But nothing could keep the smile off Leonard's face, and the car had barely stopped before Leonard opened his door, bounding out toward his daughter, waiting in the front yard. 

Jim's own stomach had a little knot it in, the way it did whenever he visited the boys. But now that he was here, he felt his heart beating faster. "Bones, you're gonna hurt her," he called out, watching the two of them hugging each other tight. Jo had her daddy's eyes and his smile, and Jim had loved her since the first time he met her, when she was just a little thing running around Bones' legs. "How about me?" he called out, getting a hug of his own. 

"They've been waiting for you," she whispered into Jim's ear, kissing his cheek and leading them into the house. "Tiberius and Horatio! You've got company!"

"Not if you're gonna call us that!"

"Get out here, guys," Jim called out, grinning at the sound of footsteps down the stairs, two boys flying into the older men's arms. "Those are the worst middle names ever," he said, wrapping his arms around one of the twins, kissing the top of his head. 

"They are not," Bones said, rubbing the head of the boy in his arms, pulling him close. "We did okay with them. Now let me look at you two." David's sons, Jim's grandsons - Callum and Lachlan had grown so much since the last time Jim saw them, looking more like their father each year. 

"I swear, I will never be able to tell you two apart," Jim laughed, filling his eyes at the sight of them. David hadn't lived to see them born, another cruel trick of fate. Their mother Marta had promised Jim that they would always be a part of his life, a promise she kept. Right now, Marta was stationed on a classified research facility, and the boys were living with Jo, her wife, and their daughter. 

"How is Sadie?" Leonard asked, settling on the sofa next to his daughter. "Can't believe we missed her." Joanna's fifteen year old daughter was back on Earth, visiting Jo's mother in Georgia. 

"She's great, but disappointed. It was gonna be a big surprise, her stopping off and visiting you in San Francisco before she headed back here."

"And touring the Academy?" Leonard asked, a glint in his eye.

"Maybe," Joanna admitted. "She's thinking about it, Dad. These guys too, it's all they can talk about." 

"That or the Vulcan Science Academy," Callum said. "I'm gonna study exoarchaeology," he told them seriously.

"And last week, you wanted to be a space pirate," Lachlan rolled his eyes, punching him in the shoulder. 

 

 

Jim sat down at the kitchen table, thanking Joanna's Deltan wife Valkaria for the cold drink. "I have to admit, Admiral, there has been a great deal of talk regarding you leading the peace delegation to the Klingons," she told him, a curious expression on her face, though her tone was open and friendly.

He was about to dispute the idea that he was heading up anything, but instead he asked, "What kind of talk?"

"The good sort, if you can believe it. Those of us who have settled here on New Vulcan can see how the alliance benefits both parties, once the bluster and posturing is removed. It is the logical course of action." 

Jo sat down on the other side of the table with her own drink. "We've got a Klingon who trades with us here in the settlement. Fair, brings us good deals. I'd rather he was on my side in the fight than on the other," she told Jim. "I know how you feel, Jim, I do. David was my brother," she reached out, taking Jim's hand in hers, "even if he wasn't blood. I loved him and I think about him every time I see those boys out there." 

Looking outside, he saw Bones tossing a ball at the boys, playing catch. "I think about him every day," Jim told her, sharing with her those thoughts that he couldn't share with another else, not even Bones. "I wonder what he'd be doing now, where he and Marta would have settled. It's not fair that he missed out on them."

"No, it's not," Joanna said. "But that was one crazy Klingon, and you can't blame a people for the actions of that lone renegade, or he's won. You've let him win, Jim." 

"When did you get so smart?" Jim asked, reached over and messed with her hair. "So, how's it going out here? You're working on some top secret project for Starfleet, right?" 

Joanna and her wife looked at each other and grinned, as if exchanging a private joke. "We're making really great progress," Jo told him. "You should see how far we've gotten. Here, look at this." She walked over toward a computer terminal and grabbed a small disc. Jo tossed the small flat circle on the ground in front of Jim, and before he could say anything, a life-sized Leonard McCoy materialized in front of him. 

There was this amazing smile on his face, the one Bones reserved for the ones he loved. "Hello honey!" the holo called out, waving at someone in the distance. It ran on a loop of about eight seconds, repeating that smile, that wave, that phrase. 

"Please tell me he hasn't seen this yet."

Joanna laughed. "Not yet, I'm still working on some of his finer features. And yours, if we're all being honest here." 

That made Jim laugh, the idea of a hologram of him. "This is your job? I can't imagine Starfleet wants to see holograms of Bones and me."

"Starfleet wants life-sized three-dimensional holos. I'm working on making them more corporeal, and Val's adding the AI component. They don't really much care who we use as our models, and if I'm gonna look at these all day, then I'm going to look at people I love." 

"Where did you get this charm? Your father doesn't have any of it," Jim laughed, examining the holodisc. "Does your dad know how smart you are?"

Joanna laughed, sounding so much like Bones it hurt Jim's heart. "He still thinks I'm sixteen. He asked if we were all doing okay, if we needed any money or anything." The look on her face, just like Bones when he was irritated. Perfection. 

"He loves you so much," Jim told Jo as Val went to find the newest holo of Jim, so he could see it. "He's so proud of what you're doing, the research. I am too," Jim told her, pulling her close and kissing her head. Like his own child, he thought, his heart hurting again but then there was laughter, coming from the yard. Taking the small disc of Bones, he tapped his finger against it. "You got any extras of these?" he asked mischievously.

 

 

The morning had been amazing, spending a little time with Jim's grandsons and Joanna. Leonard wished they could stay longer and have a real visit with the boys. But they had Starfleet business, and now they hurried back across the desert in order to get back to the ship and space dock by 1500 hours. 

But when they entered the house, the look on Nyota's face told them that something had gone terribly wrong.

 

Leonard had never been to a Vulcan funeral. 

All of New Vulcan seemed to be in attendance. Ordinarily Vulcan custom dictated that bodies be buried within two days, but because so many people wanted to honor the man that it seemed reasonable to push it back another day. Since the news broke, the skies above New Vulcan had been filled all day and night with shuttles bringing in dignitaries and other mourners. 

Leonard sat next to Jim, directly behind Spock and Nyota and their children. He recognized it as a place of honor, and that touched him. A dozen rows behind them were filled with what seemed to be all of the New Vulcan Colony, and then some. Vulcans, non-Vulcans, Starfleet representatives. He spotted many old friends among the mourners, nodding his head at them. They would all speak later.

The ceremony itself was highly ornate, more so than Leonard would have suspected from a logical culture. But logic didn't mean they didn't appreciate their societal hierarchies, and Spock's family was at the top of those who remained. 

Still, it surprised him. Men and women dressed in long robes carried Spock's body three times around the borders of the city he founded, an honor typically reserved for military heroes or the highest political office. There was no way that the true identity of the Elder Spock could have been kept a secret, not in a population as small as the Vulcans. Leonard suspected that knowing that Old Spock had come from some aspect of the future allowed him more sway than he would have ordinarily been given. 

He mentioned this to Jim before the ceremony. Jim had nodded, but his mind seemed elsewhere, preoccupied with those dark thoughts that Leonard knew crept in from time to time. History had taught him to give Jim a little room and a lot of private affection and eventually those dark clouds would pass. 

A high priest sang as Spock's body was lifted onto a raised dais where a high pyre had been erected. Leonard expected Spock to speak, or perhaps Sarek. But Spock's father had not yet returned, and as for Spock, well… "Guess that would be pretty awkward, eulogizing yourself," Jim murmured, and Leonard agreed, pulling at the collar of his formal uniform. 

In the end no one spoke. The grateful populace sat quietly, only the sound of a lone singer lamenting mournfully breaking the silence as Old Spock's body burned. 

 

 

After the ceremony, many Starfleet officers ended up at Spock and Nyota's house for coffee or tea. Leonard found himself sharing stories with the CMOs of two other ships, both of whom had heard the stories of his San Francisco lecture. He enjoyed their good-natured ribbing, laughing as they shared stories of their own. Later, once most of the others left, he spotted Nyota and together they found Jim and Scotty sitting in the library, chatting with Hikaru and Pavel, still in their formal captain's uniforms, both of who had shuttled in to pay their respects. Grayer than the last time they all met up, Leonard thought grimly to himself, but it still felt good being all together again. "It was like he waited until we got here to die, the canny bastard," Jim was telling them, smiling up at Leonard when they saw each other. 

All of the men stood as Nyota approached. "My boys," she told them, touching Sulu's shoulder as she found a place on the sofa next to him, Leonard settling on the other side of Jim. "It was good of you all to come."

"Tell me, how long do you think Spock's gonna want to wait before we head out of here? The Klingons are waiting." Now that Jim was committed to doing this treaty, he wanted to get going but that was impossible, not without his own Spock. 

"There is no appointed mourning period that we must follow, Admiral, if that is what you are worried about." No one had seen Spock slide in the room, but as he approached the group, Leonard scooted over on the sofa, giving him room to join them. But Spock stood, straight as an arrow, and looked directly at Jim. "I am prepared to leave when you give the order."

"I appreciate that, Spock, but I know this has been hard for you, for both of you," he looked over at Nyota. "I'd understand if you wanted to grieve - I'm just not sure I can give you that time."

"No time is needed," Spock assured them all. "I can leave tomorrow."

" _We_ can leave tomorrow," Nyota told them. "Permission to come aboard, Admiral? If it's okay, I'd like to accompany my husband on this trip."

Chekov sighed, looking over at Jim. "I have to admit, I'm a little envious, Admiral. This mission is going to go down in history, you transporting the Klingons to a peace conference. Books will be written about this."

Jim quirked an eyebrow. "I don't know about that," he said, but Leonard understood what Chekov meant. "But if you want, and you can spare the time, why not join us?" Everyone looked over at Jim, who cracked a smile, the first one Leonard had seen all day. "I'm serious. All of you, if you want to come. I think it would be fitting for Captain Chekov and Captain Sulu to join me in this endeavor."

"The whole gang back together again," Leonard chuckled, feeling lighter. "I can feel the trouble starting now."

Jim kicked at his foot. "Shush, you old grumpy pants. This is the best idea I've had in a long time." That glint was back, that sense of purpose that had been lost for a few days. Jim was eyeballing everyone in the room, winking at Leonard. 

"So, who wants to go for a ride?"


	4. Enterprise

Hell is empty and all the devils are here.  
The Tempest, Act I Scene 2

 

The particular species of humanoid that has developed on Earth matures slowly - both physically and mentally - when compared to other humanoids, retaining an infantile manner long after other species have progressed into childhood or puberty.  
Leonard H McCoy, _Comparative Alien Physiology _(2293)__

* * *

It wasn't as if Jim Kirk hadn't ever disobeyed a direct order before. 

Legend had it that Command always had a Plan B in its back pocket before sending Kirk and the _Enterprise_ out on her missions, the Admiral famous (or infamous, as McCoy would say) for deviating from plan as often as not. True or not, the rumor had helped endear Jim to the Academy students he now oversaw. They loved him, their Commandant, someone who'd been one of them - bucking the system, getting in trouble. A gambler who had won sometimes and lost sometimes and still pushed forward, boldly going.

Jim knew this. 

But looking in the mirror right now, smoothing out the wrinkles from his formal uniform, Jim felt ambushed, like a wolf whose foot had been caught in a trap, and this was even before the Klingons boarded his ship. There was no way out of this, he knew that. Spock - both of them, damn them, had seen to that. It was farcical, really, the whole idea. 

Jim Kirk extending the olive branch when all and sundry knew he really wanted to point a phaser at them.

Or a bat'leth. Even Jim could admit they were beautiful weapons. He'd even had a few introduced into the Academy's training program, under the guise of 'know your enemy'. "What are we supposed to talk about?" he called out to Leonard. 

"Beats me," Leonard answered, looking around for his boots. 

"Valeris offered to pull out some of the Romulan Ale they confiscated last month. Might make things run smoother," Jim offered. Leonard's left eye twitched, which Jim took as a sign of approval. He watched his husband finish dressing, Bones' jacket hanging looser than it used to, and Jim wondered if he a new uniform might be warranted soon. "You okay?" he asked, suddenly worried about Bones' health. 

"Just old," Leonard answered, reaching for Jim's hand and squeezing it tight in silent answer. Both of them chuckled as they walked toward the lift, where Leonard headed left, in the direction of the conference room that had been transformed into a formal dining area tonight. 

 

Jim headed up to the shuttle bay, where he spotted Spock already waiting. "Admiral," he nodded at Jim, who gave him a dirty look in return. "I wanted to thank you again for allowing my son to join us on this voyage. Despite his poor display of manners the other night, Sovar recognizes what an extraordinary occasion this is." 

"I'm so glad you guys are so happy about this," Jim retorted sarcastically, straightening his jacket. 

"It is my hope, Jim, that when this is over, both sides will have experienced some badly needed healing." He paused, then added, "You more than anyone."

"Hope, Spock?" Jim tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, but it was hard.

The Vulcan nodded slowly. "A concept you once worked hard to instill in me."

"Don't know what I was thinking," Jim retorted. Spock looked at him with a familiar dissatisfaction as they both turned toward the hangar doors as they opened, the Klingon shuttle landing in the center. Despite their transporter capabilities, the Klingons insisted on shuttling in from an undisclosed location, the first of what Jim felt would be many insults that night. A minute later, four Klingons began disembarking from their shuttle, looking visibly uncomfortable in what was obviously formal attire. _Show time_. "Welcome aboard," Jim told them as they stepped down and approached. "I'm Admiral Jim Kirk," he introduced himself, "and this is my Ambassador, Spock."

One Klingon stepped forward, approaching Jim. He wore an oversized red uniform with high red boots. "Admiral Kirk, your reputation precedes you. I am Chancellor Gorkon, of the Klingon High Council." 

"The architect of the peace program," Spock added. "We welcome you."

"Your counterpart provided much of the groundwork," Gorkon told Spock. "I was troubled to hear about his loss. Without him, I worry that we cannot succeed." Gorkon then introduced his daughter Azetbur, who gave Jim a steely look as she walked past him. "And this is General Chang and his Lieutenant, Toragh."

Chang. Jim looked over, a recognition settling on both men's faces. Oh yes, he remembered Chang. "Welcome," he told them all, fixing a mask onto his face. 

"Admiral Kirk," Chang began, stepping toward Jim. "I have long hoped we'd meet again."

To his credit, Jim didn't shoot the man at point blank range. _Chang_. One of Jim's first missions, back when he'd been green and naive. Tricked by a renegade Klingon trying to instigate trouble between the Klingon Empire and the Federation, Jim had found himself in one of those no-win scenarios, staring down his own death in a Klingon gulag. 

But Jim's crew didn't give up on him. They saved him.

That Klingon had been Chang, now General Chang. "As did I," Jim said drolly, "albeit under different circumstances." Spock closed his eyes, and Gorkon and Azetbur looked at each other, worried. 

But Chang merely laughed. "No need to be alarmed, Chancellor. It is natural that we would prefer to meet in battle, for Kirk and I are old warriors, old enemies. A dying breed, should this peace plan of yours succeed. Let us at least battle verbally if we can no longer shoot at each other." 

 

At least he had his bridge crew, his friends - all but Sulu, who hadn't been able to come, the Excelsior having a prior commitment. Jim suspected that it had to do with the peace conference, but he respected that Hikaru couldn't talk about it. 

 

 

Dinner did not go as well as Jim had hoped. 

 

An overwhelming sense of tension was present from the moment all the introductions were made and the guests were seated. 

He'd made sure that traditional Klingon delicacies were brought on board. A platter filled with heart of targ, blood red, sat on the table next to a leg of lamb. Bowls of cold gagh, squiggling and squirming, were passed back and forth, politely declined by the crew of the _Enterprise_. 

"You do not want to try?" Chang asked, holding the bowl of worms out to Jim with a look of pretended hurt on his face. 

"I've tried it," Jim replied politely, shaking his head. "I prefer them warm," he added, pretending not to notice Leonard twitching. 

A couple of the others seemed to think that was funny, but Chang just shook his head. " _DavHam_ , I am disappointed, Admiral Kirk," Chang told him, handing the bowl to his lieutenant. "Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste death but once."

"It's been a long time since anyone's called me a coward," Jim said tightly.

Chang opened his mouth to speak, but Gorkon interrupted. "Please excuse my general, Admiral Kirk. He wishes to spar with you, even now when we are your guests at dinner." Shooting Chang a glare, Gorkon turned back to his meal. 

"Of course, Chancellor. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today that sheds his blood with me, shall be my brother. And now, this peace brings us closer. " Chang's voice dropped low, his eyes fixed on Jim. "Tell me - are we brothers now, Kirk?"

Jim paused, his fork halfway between his plate and his mouth. Finishing his bite of food, he chewed slowly. "Let's start with cousins, and work our way from there."

"Always a joke with you humans," Chang replied, before tucking into his own plate. They all ate in silence for a few moments, until a simple conversation between Chekov and Azetbur became increasingly heated as well. 

Jim could see Chekov trying to hold his temper in. "But human rights are at the core of what the Federation stand for."

Azetbur made a derisive noise. "Human rights - the very words you use show your contempt for the rest of us. The Federation remains a homo-sapiens only club."

Chang interjected, holding his hand out toward Spock, "Present company excluded, of course."

Spock nodded in their direction, but Nyota spoke up. "I live on New Vulcan, and I assure you, that is not true. Our colony - and yes, I call it 'ours' because I consider myself as much a part of it as my husband - it is a shining example of what the future can look like. Multi-species, multi-cultural, all living together logically and in peace, and yes, even Klingons. They're welcome too."

"And if we do not wish to become 'multi-cultural'?" It was the first time Jim had heard the voice of Toragh, Chang's lieutenant. "I am a Klingon, a warrior as my father was before me, and his father. Why must that change?" Looking around the table, he continued. "Can we become allies if we wish to remain on our own? Or does becoming part of your Federation require me to accept all of what you stand for, even those parts that go against my upbringing?"

Jim didn't know how to answer him. It hadn't occurred to him that Klingons were afraid of losing their identity in this deal. 

But apparently it was. "To be or not to be, that is the question which preoccupies our people, Admiral," Chang added, to which Azetbur nodded her head and Jim saw how alone Gorkon seemed in his desire for this peace plan. 

Jim opened his mouth, then closed it. Finally, he asked, "But don't you want our help?" That seemed to strike a nerve, all the Klingons suddenly going rigid. "This is all to help save your people."

"My people are not afraid to die," Chang answered in a voice so low, Jim had to strain to hear him. 

"Chang is correct," Gorkon added. "We are warriors, and death does not frighten us. And there are those who would prefer the destruction of our planet to settling our differences via the diplomatic process." 

"...sort of like throwing the baby out with the bathwater," Bones muttered to himself, and Jim kicked him under the table. 

"But this," Gorkon continued, as he pointed at the room, "your crew and my crew, this is what frightens my people. Living through a time when they have no war to fight, no more honorable deaths." As he spoke he glanced at each member of the dinner party, his eyes landing on Jim's last. "If there is to be a brave new world, our generation is going to have the hardest time living in it. But it will be a better world than the one left to us." Gorkon raised his glass. "The future." He paused, then added, "The undiscovered country."

Everyone was quiet a moment, taking in Gorkon's words. Then Bones raised his glass of Romulan ale. "To you, Chancellor Gorkon, and to your undiscovered country."

The others followed suit, toasting the both the Klingon and the idea, and for a brief moment, Jim felt like the evening wasn't a total waste.

 

 

After what felt like an eternity, Jim and Spock escorted the Klingons back to the shuttle bay. "You sure you don't want to remain on board tonight?" he asked. "Your accommodations are all ready."

Chancellor Gorkon shook his head. "Thank you, Admiral. But we will shuttle back to our ship and return in the morning with the full delegation." 

 

 

"Well, that was fun." Nyota rested her head against her hand as Spock and Jim rejoined them in the dining room, still sitting in their chairs. Everyone had a slightly frazzled look about them. 

Some looked more than frazzled. "This is evil," Scotty shook his head as he pushed away his glass of Romulan ale. "I've known some mean drink before, Admiral, but this Romulan liquid was beyond the pale. Wicked stuff."

Chekov did not seem to feel the same way. Reaching for his glass, he took another sip, closing his eyes and sighing. "I did not expect them to be so… chatty," he finally said, as if struggling to find the right word. 

"Every time I opened my mouth, I felt like I was back in school," Leonard agreed. "Argumentative as the day is long."

"It was difficult to hold my tongue," Scotty added. "I cannae remember the last time I felt so frustrated."

"And I appreciate it all," Jim told them, walking over to Leonard, resting his hands on his shoulders, "although they are probably complaining about our lack of manners as well." Looking down at Leonard's face, he saw a familiar weariness there. "It's been a long day," he told them all, "and I need to get Bones to bed. Good night everyone," he said, tugging on Leonard's arm until they were both standing. 

Both men were silent as they walked the familiar path back to their old room. "Talk to me, Jim," Leonard said as they undressed, preparing for bed. He wrapped one arm around Jim's waist. "What's going on in there?"

But even now, there were some things he just couldn't share with anyone, not even his Bones. "I'm tired, hon," he said, brushing their lips together. "Just a long day. A long weird day, and I want to get in bed." Settling against Leonard, he punched his pillow a few times. "It feel strange to you, being back on board again?"

It had been ten years since Leonard's promotion, ten years since they left space and returned full time to San Francisco. "Nope," Leonard told him, surprising Jim a little. "Well, I don't know. I guess a part of me always figured we'd be back in space, sometime. Maybe not under these circumstances," Leonard chuckled to himself, pulling Jim closer into his arms. "I'm proud of you, darlin'. I know tonight was hard for you. I wanted to tear that man's head off his head as soon as I saw him."

Some comfort there, knowing that Bones backed him up. Jim wasn't wrong for feeling this way. "Love you," he told Leonard, kissing him gently before closing his eyes and falling asleep. 

The end of a long fucking day indeed.

 

 

_BOOM_

Jim's eyes snapped open. "What was-" he heard Leonard sleepily ask, just as another loud BOOM jolted them both awake. "Jim…"

But Jim had already leapt to his feet, pulling his uniform on as he ran out the door. He made it to the bridge, slightly out of breath. "What's going on?" he called out, staring at a Klingon battle cruiser filling up the viewscreen. "Shields up!" he called out, though he was pretty sure that had already happened. "Are they firing at us?"

 

But before anyone could answer him, Chang's face loomed large, his features dark and furious, a large cut on one side of his face, dark stains on his clothing. "Kirk!" he screamed. "I told them this would be the result of tonight's exercise. Tricks and Federation lies!"

"What are you talking about?"

Chang kept yelling, gesturing wildly with his arms. "Lulling us with your promises of peace. But no sooner had our shuttle left your ship than you fired upon us! We barely made it back to our own ship! Would it not have simply been easier to poison us? Stab us while we sat at your dinner table?"

"I- Can someone please tell me what he's talking about? We didn't fire at you, Chang?" 

"Admiral." Jim turned to see Spock staring at the computer terminal in front of him. "According to the _Enterprise's_ security logs, we did."

"No," Jim stood, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "This was not us, Chang. You have to believe me!" One look at the Klingon bridge, the injured faces of Chang and his lieutenant told Jim that something terrible had happened. "Where's Gorkon? I need to speak with him," Jim began, a knot forming in his stomach. 

"Gorkon is injured," Chang spat out. "But you shall have that chance." Chang's voice dropped low. "Drop your shields."

"Chang, we need to talk about what's happened. According to our records-"

"Drop your shields. Surrender yourself or I will destroy your ship. You have five minutes."

This couldn't be a trick, not again. Jim wouldn't put it past the Klingon to try this gambit twice, but how could he have gotten the _Enterprise_ to shoot at them? It seemed too great a gamble, even for a madman like Chang. "Spock, tell me what's going on."

But Spock looked utterly confused. "Jim, I-" he began, but then stopped. "I am uncertain what is happening here." 

Bones had gotten there sometime during the exchange, and was watching all of this. "You can't do this," Bones began, as if knowing what Jim was thinking. 

"I have no choice." A dead feeling inside him, reminding him of another time he'd bargained like this, for the safety of his crew in exchange for his own life. It had been worth it then. 

It was worth it now. "Drop shields." How many times had he done this, left his ship, his pride and joy, in Spock's capable hands. One last time, he said to himself, and suddenly Jim felt old. "Spock, you are in command in my absence." The hardest part was not looking at Bones, though out of the corner of his eyes he could see him standing there, wringing his hands in worry. "If they start firing, turn and run. Don't fight them, don't engage them in battle. This ship can go faster, you get to Federation space as fast as you can. You hear me?" He felt himself hardening inside, the fighter instinct reemerging after too many years of teaching. "Don't trust them, any of them." 

One more glance at Communications. "Open channels." Chang's face filled the screen and Jim took a deep breath. "I accept your demands. I will beam on board because I want to talk to Gorkon, and to you. We need to discuss-"

"Wait!" Jim froze, his face in full panic at the sound of Leonard running forward, standing next to Jim. "I'm a physician, maybe I can help."

Jim spun around, furious. "No! Bones, stop it-" but Leonard just pushed him off. 

"Agreed," Chang snapped at them. "Beam them both." The view screen went black and Jim felt that familiar tingle of transporting. 

When he opened his eyes, he sighed, shoulders slumping. The Klingon bridge, full of shouting and angry words. Klingon guards shoved him hard, and he saw another one push a gun into Leonard's back. "Stop that," he said before looking around and spotting Chancellor Gorkon, injured and laying on the ground, surrounded by guards. His daughter Azetbur was holding her father's hand, the two of them talking quietly.

The entire scene made Jim feel sick. "We didn't do this."

Chang was having none of it. "Does this look like a peace conference to you, Kirk?" 

Even from here, he could see just how extensive Gorkon's injuries were. Leonard rushed to Gorkon's side, pulling out his scanner and trying to staunch the blood, thick and purple, that was pouring from Gorkon's side. One glance at Leonard's face and Jim knew Gorkon was beyond hope.

Everyone seemed to sense it. "Admiral Kirk," Azetbur called out. "Please come here." Jim saw Gorkon's hand reaching for him. Stepping toward him, he knelt beside Azetbur, on the other side of a worried Leonard. 

"I can't save him," Bones was saying quietly, his face full of frustration and anger. "Maybe if we were back on the _Enterprise_ , you let let me operate, try and stop the bleeding."

"Savages," Chang spat out, but Jim ignored him, focusing on Gorkon. 

"This wasn't what I wanted," Jim told the Klingon, surprising himself at how honestly he meant that. 

Gorkon's eyes fluttered at the sound of Jim's voice. "Don't let it end like this," he whispered, then his dark eyes went blank and empty. The hand holding Jim's fell, and he felt Azetbur begin to chant quietly as the others in the room lifted their head and howled.

All except one. "James Tiberius Kirk." Jim looked up and saw Chang standing over him, flanked by Klingon guards. His voice went low with a barely controlled rage, and something else. Satisfaction. "I charge you with the murder of Chancellor Gorkon and I charge you with war crimes against the Klingon Empire."

"Chang, you heard him. Our worlds won't survive unless we band together-"

"Doctor Leonard McCoy, I charge you with the murder of Chancellor Gorkon-"

"No," Jim stood, stepping up to Chang, only to have the Klingon guards grab him.

"Stop, Jim," Leonard told him quietly, suddenly surrounded by guards.

"and I charge you with war crimes against the Klingon Empire." Chang snorted cruelly. "What's done cannot be undone. Take them out of my sight."

 

 

They were thrown in separate cells, dark and crowded. He could hear Leonard next to him, breathing hard. "Been a long time since I been in one of these…"

Jim smiled against his will, though his heart was broken. More than anyone on that ship, he needed to know that Bones was okay, taken care of. Safe. To have him here, facing charges with him hurt more than anything, though he knew there was no one else he wanted at his side. "When was that?" he asked.

"Rigel V, how could you forget? We all ended up in that jail overnight, until Scotty could bail us out." Jim heard Leonard snort to himself. "I think there was Romulan Ale there, too." He heard Leonard trying to move and shift, probably stretching his sore back. 

"You okay?" 

"Always," Leonard told him, but Jim knew that wasn't true. "Hey Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, it's okay. It really is."

"Stop talking like that."

"I'm just saying, if this is how we go out-"

"No," Jim said, his body turning as much as it can toward the cell opening. "Look, Bones, don't. Don't give them anything they can use against us." _Including the way we feel about each other._

"Understood, Captain." Leonard went quiet a moment, and Jim wondered if he went to sleep. Then- "It's been a good life."

Cold as he was, Jim had to agree.

 

Minutes turned into hours in the dark, and Jim lost track of time, drifting in and out of an uncomfortable sleep. But it couldn't have been more than a day when the lights were turned on, strong hands grabbing him and shoving him into the corridor. He was handcuffed, and turning his head, he saw Leonard behind him, similarly cuffed. They didn't speak, but he could see the fear and worry in Bones' eyes. 

Jim felt a sick sense of familiarity. How long had it been - thirty-five years? Something like that, when he'd been led into another Klingon tribunal. Last time, Bones and Spock had saved him. 

That wasn't going to happen now.

The room was round, filled with about five hundred Klingons, from what Jim could estimate, all of them screaming and yelling and waving their hands. Directly in front of them stood a row of Klingons in some bright ceremonial robes, and Jim guessed they were the jury, if Klingons even had juries. 

A Klingon approached them, placing a set of universal translators on each of their heads. He was tall, with a regal sort of bearing and Jim could see many of the Klingons all wearing similar headsets. Then he heard a voice, loud and booming, coming from the overhead speakers. "The charges are as follows," and Jim heard them read again. "Who speaks for the accused?"

"I do." The Klingon who had given them their translators moved to stand next to them. "Worf, House of Mogh."

"Speak then." The Klingon didn't speak for long, reiterating what Jim and Leonard had already said. He described Leonard's attempt to save Gorkon, and how both men had come forward to stand trial bravely and without struggle. Jim couldn't sense any sort of sympathy from him, but Worf stood firm, full of honor and duty and Jim decided he'd take it.

Chang stepped out of the shadows and began speaking to them in Standard English. "Doctor McCoy, what is your current medical status?"

Leonard stared at Chang. "I suppose I could stand to lose a few pounds, but other than that, I'm doing well." Jim felt a fierce pride at Bones' sarcasm, though he knew that the doctor was probably terrified.

A rumble through the crowd, not appreciating the sass. "You are currently head of Starfleet Medical Division?" Chang asked coolly.

"I am."

"What measures did you take to save Chancellor Gorkon?"

"I gave him Quadroline when his heart began to fail. I tried to slow the bleeding, but he was injured too badly, and I did not have the proper equipment." 

"So you could have saved him?"

"I might have, had I my tools, my operating room. I don't know your physiology as well I should-"

"So you admit your ignorance of medicine?"

Bones stood his ground. "I'm not ignorant."

"Doctor, I am confused. Are you a murderer or merely an incompetent physician?" Chang stepped away from them, as the laughter and howling began again in the gallery.

Jim could feel the frustration and annoyance rolling off Leonard. "I wanted to save him. I wanted him to live. My God, we all wanted him to live." 

But Chang was done with Leonard, and he turned, wheeling now on Jim. "Admiral Kirk," he began in a low voice, yet Jim could hear him echoing in his ears. "Tell me, what does an aging warrior like you think of Gorkon's peace plan?"

"I don't think it's a secret that I've battled the Klingons in the past." 

"So the peace, how does it affect you?"

"I'm not sure I understand. I'm a teacher now, of students."

"At your military academy." 

"It is much more than that. We have science and culture, we teach people to be diplomats. First and foremost, we're explorers."

"And your warriors?"

"We teach tactics as well. "

"Do you have Klingon students?"

"We don't," Jim added, turning and looking at the crowd. "Not yet. I'm certain that will change one day." 

"You teach Klingon language."

"I believe its an advanced linguistics course."

"For the purposes of listening to our conversations." Jim didn't answer, so Chang continued. "How do you feel about Klingons?"

"I thought dinner went well the other night," Jim retorted flippantly, but he knew that he wasn't getting out of this that easily. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Leonard drop his head, and Jim took a deep breath. Right. Klingons. "I've fought many Klingons in my life. It seems we've been enemies as long as I can remember. But I believe anyone can change. Even me."

"You have a son."

"Had a son."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Chang said, and it took everything inside Jim not to reach over and choke those words out of his throat. "What happened to him?"

"He was killed," Jim said, and anticipating Chang's next question, he added, "by a Klingon."

"Such vitriol in your voice. We have names, you know. We are not the animals you depict us to be." Chang circled the two men. "Your son was killed by the War Lord Kruge as retribution for death of his kinsman, whom you had murdered."

"There was more to it than that, he was put to death by a tribunal-"

"He was not allowed to die in battle. You of all people should understand what that means. That should have been the end of it." He stepped around them again. ""What happened to Kruge?" he asked, a false innocent tone in his voice.

"I have no idea."

"He disappeared soon after your son's death. Where were you when this happened?"

"We were on leave, on Earth."

"On 2281.357, three weeks after your son's death, you were placed on administrative leave. Can you tell me why?"

"I stole a starship." 

" _You_ stole a starship." 

"We went for a ride." Jim knew the verdict had already been decided, and that nothing he said was going to help their case. 

"I see. A coincidence. - and a disappointment. I expected the great Jim Kirk to be more forthcoming about his victories. Perhaps we can let your own words speak for you."

Jim's stomach dropped as he heard his own voice being played over a loudspeaker, then instantly translated. He knew it wouldn't sound any better in their tongue than it did in his own. " _I am allowed to hate them. If they all died off, I would not mourn them. Not one. They killed my son, and a piece of me died that day, and no treaty or diplomatic hocus pocus is going to bring him back._ "

Chang's face filled with a righteous fire. "Are those your words, Admiral?"

Jim froze, his feet planted on the floor. A burst of nausea overtook him but what could he say? Those were his words, spoken in the home of a friend not a fortnight ago. He'd said them, he'd meant them. "Those are my words."

The chambers erupted into cheers and yelling. "High Council, I call for you to deliver a verdict of guilt, based on this admission of guilt-"

"Council, I object," Worf stood up to Chang, arguing voraciously but his voice drowned out by the chanting and jeering from the auditorium. Jim barely had time to hear the verdict read before he felt the bite of the cuffs around his wrists again, as he and Leonard were led once more into darkness.


	5. Rura Penthe

Let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.  
Richard II, Act III Scene 2

One enviable aspect of the Klingon anatomy is the multiple redundancy of their organs. But having that built-in failsafe also created a sense of false security in their own invincibility.  
Leonard H McCoy, _Comparative Alien Physiology_ (2293)

* * *

 

Jim woke up cold. 

It had been years since he'd slept with such discomfort, maybe that time he got lost out in Colorado. His favorite horse got spooked and reared up, throwing him onto the ground and leaving him without his communicator. Twelve hours in the snow left him with a pinched nerve in his back and bronchitis. 

Almost on command, he coughed, that heavy congestion starting in his chest, but Bones had no hypo here to take care if it. "You okay?" Leonard called out softly. 

Jim turned, looking over the edge of his top bunk and covering himself with a thin blanket. "Just a cough," he said, knowing that he couldn't exactly hide much here in this communal dormitory. "You?"

"My back is killing me," Leonard sighed, twisting his spine, rewarded with a loud crack. Sliding off his top bunk, Jim sat down next to Bones, nudging their legs together. They'd agreed to keep the affection toned down, in an attempt to not give the prison guards anything to use against them, but right now, Jim wanted to feel his husband. Covering Bones' hand with his own for a moment, they gave each other a long look before getting up and heading out back into the mines. 

 

Gulag Rura Penthe. Reportedly the coldest habitable place in the Klingon empire, it made the perfect spot for a prison, particularly if one wasn't worried about comfort. In fact, the presence of dilithium made living below the surface of the ice covered planet more practical.

Not that the Klingons cared about practicality. "All the modern tech available and they've got us using stone age tools," Leonard grumbled as they took their midday meal together. 

Jim chewed his bread slowly - they didn't get much and he wanted to make it last. "We're not exactly here to fuel their space ships, Bones," Jim told him. "This is purely punitive." The guards liked to bark out that no one lived much longer than a year down here. 

They'd been here for two days and already the monotony of the mining began wearing on them both, and Jim had already felt eyes on both of them, following their movements. They weren't going to even make it close to that year, not if the whispers of a bounty on his head were true. 

"Tlhap dung!" On command, everyone stood, shuffling toward the doors. No one moved fast, the cold inhibited any sort of urgency. No need to be in a hurry here.

 

 

That night, the two men found a few minutes to be alone, some time to be close to each other while the other prisoners stood around the fire, warming themselves. They were cold, shivering close together in Jim's bunk, but they were together, holding each other if even for just a few minutes.

"Hey, we should do this more often," Leonard murmured into Jim's ear, and Jim laughed at the lunacy of it all.

He kissed Leonard's jaw. "What, freeze to death?" he asked, lacing their fingers together.

"No thanks. I mean maybe we should travel again. Have some adventures." 

Jim lifted his head, leaning up on an elbow. "Let me get this straight. _You_ want to go back into space. Leonard McCoy wants to go see the stars again."

"Yeah, maybe," Leonard answered. "Let's grab us a little ship. Admiral's prerogative, go on some diplomatic bullshit missions. Really make the peace happen."

"I'm officially blaming this on the cold." 

"You go ahead and do that," Leonard told him, pulling Jim back down and kissing him soundly. 

But Jim wasn't totally convinced. "What's going on, Bones. I thought you liked where we were at?" Jim nudged him with his foot. "This isn't because I made you give a speech, is it?" 

Leonard chuckled, trying to keep it to himself, but failing. "Still haven't forgiven you for that, but no. I mean, I do like being in San Francisco and I think we've done some good work there. Made some good changes. But we're needed out here too. All this shit with the Klingons, no more neutral zone - I think maybe they all need a little Jim Kirk kicking some ass and settling things down." Leonard paused, an awkward look on that face of his. "Maybe you need a little Jim Kirk kicking some ass too." 

Jim didn't quite understand that. "What do you mean?"

Leonard shrugged, gesturing with his hands. "I don't know, Jim… I know what David's death meant to you, I do. Part of me died when that boy left us. But," he paused again, Jim watching him struggle with finding the right words. 

But Jim knew what he meant. "I think what you're trying so hard not to say is that I got caught up in my hatred."

"Maybe," Leonard admitted. "When I hear you make those blanket judgments against the whole species, Jim, it scares me. It's just not who you are, hon." 

"It's who they made me."

"Jim," Leonard began again, but the guard approached, and Leonard slid onto his own bunk, leaving Jim alone with his thoughts. 

Is that what had happened? And was he okay with that, allowing one deranged person that sort of power over him, to change who he inherently was inside? Bones was right, that wasn't him. Jim had always taken people as they came, at face value. He'd been known as someone fair and honest, if a little cocksure, yeah, but he'd held his own. 

But now, he was Jim Kirk, advocating the withholding of aid to a people who asked for help. The cold realization chilled him more than the bitterly cold air. 

It was a long time before Jim fell asleep that night.

 

 

Something was up. 

You couldn't be around someone as long as he'd been around Jim Kirk and not see the signs. Jim had taken this whole 'being imprisoned' too readily, without much of a fight. At first, Leonard guessed that it might have been shock, or even grief at David's death, that wound being opened again. But no, it was more than that. 

Jim was plotting.

Fuck.

The first sign was the clothes. "Put this on today, okay?" Jim tossed Leonard his old Admiral's jacket, the one that they had been wearing when they were beamed aboard the Klingon ship. "Just put your coat on over it." Leonard quirked his brow at Jim, who was doing the same with his own formal coat - but Leonard didn't say anything, just did what he was told. 

The second sign was the strange looks. "Jim, what's going on?" Leonard asked as he passed by Jim, mining a side of the tunnel. 

Jim glanced over at a group of prisoners, working along the far wall with their pick axes. "Okay," he began. "See that little group over there? That tall guy, with the hair all over?"

Tall guy - had to be close to eight feet tall. "Yeah."

Jim hit the rock with his axe, as if working. His voice dropped. "He's gonna try and kill me."

Leonard stopped. "And you aren't worried?" he asked, leaning down to pick up some of the rocks and drop them in his basket as the guards passed by. "That guy's huge! Who is he?"

"Just someone who wants a ride out of here. He told me about a plot against me, and wanted to help. I told him we'd take him with us if he could get us to the surface. Got everything under control." But that's all Jim would say, giving Leonard a little wink before turning back to his rock. 

"Everything under control," Leonard groused to himself, gathering more rocks as the guards passed by again. "Every time I hear that, someone starts shooting or we start running." As if on cue, he heard some muffled noises, and turned to see Jim getting punched, staggering to the ground and landing heavily. Dropping his basket, he ran just in time to see Jim rub his jaw, reminding Leonard of another time, back when they were still young, Jim and his barfights. "Aw hell," he said, but Jim got up, circling his gigantic foe, putting up his fists. All the prisoners gathered around, so Leonard had to push and shove his way to the front, just in time to see Jim get in two good punches before getting slammed down again.

Suddenly, an explosion erupted from the far corner of the mines. Leonard turned his head, which is what everyone did, the guards included, and right then, both Jim and the tall prisoner hit the guards with the blunt side of their pickaxes. Seeing that, the others began doing the same, some of the prisoners using the sharp blade and soon there was blood and flesh everywhere. Leonard froze for one second, staring at the mayhem when he felt Jim's hand on his arm. "Let's go!"

Most of the prisoners, the ones not still attacking the guards, headed left toward the tunnels leading to the entrance of the mine. Jim's attacker went right, Jim and Leonard following, down one mine shaft after another until they reached a ladder. "Told you," the giant said in a low growly voice before he scrambled up the ladder. 

"Never doubted you, G'nar," Jim replied, pointing at the ladder. "You first," he said to Leonard, who began climbing. 

It felt like forever, climbing in the darkness, and Leonard's arms and legs began to feel wobbly. Just when he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to climb, he began to see a light at the top. "Almost there," he said, to himself as much as anyone.

Pushing through, the three of them made it to the surface, all white snow and ice. It felt like they were in the middle of a blizzard. "Okay, where to now?" Leonard asked, looking around at their surroundings. But as he turned toward the others, he spotted Jim pulling out his pickaxe from behind his back, slamming it against the back of the giant's head. He felt with a thud, hitting the ground, and Leonard spotted a small device roll out of his hand. "What's this?" he asked, examining it closely before handing it to Jim. "Is that a transmitter?"

"Sure is," Jim said, dropping it on the ground and smashing it with his boot. "G'nar here was leading us into a trap. Planned on turning us in for the reward money." Jim turned and looked around. "This way," he said, heading away from the mine shaft entrance.

"And you knew that?" Leonard asked, following Jim as they moved up to higher ground.

"Was pretty sure," Jim replied. He stopped, touching Leonard's arm. The snow fell heavier now, they were more exposed the further up they went. "You okay?"

"Super cold," Leonard told him, and then they were holding each other, the first time in what seemed like ages. "Well, we're out of jail. What are we doing to do now, Jim?"

Jim just chuckled softly, his breath warm against Leonard's neck. "Still want to go see the stars, Bones?"

"Yeah, I think so. You?"

"I just want you to be happy, that's all I've ever wanted." It was a surreal conversation, on the top of a glacier on a Klingon prison planet, but Leonard couldn't remember the last time he felt so _alive_. 

At that moment, Jim looked up at the sky. "Okay, time to see if Spock is as good as he used to be." Then they both turned, hearing the sounds of people approaching. Jim leaned over, kissed his cheek, and then said, "Time for Plan B. Take off your coat."

"What do you- Jim, we're gonna freeze out here!" He spotted Jim taking a handful of small discs out of his pocket. Jim tossed them on the ground, and all of a sudden Leonard saw himself in his red Admiral's jacket, reaching out and waving to someone, calling out 'Hello honey!'. Then there was another Jim, standing at attention in his own red jacket, looking a little younger that Jim's current age. Another Leonard joined them, appearing further away, and another, and another, all of them calling out those same words, with another three or four Jims standing there, walking around in little circles, as if making small talk. 

That's when Leonard realized - they were holograms, Joanna's holograms from what it looked like. 

"Heghpu' joq yIn!" he heard one of them yelling at the other two, and they pulled out long knives. 

_Dead or alive_ , according to the universal translators still in their ear. "That's rude," he murmured at Jim, still out of the line of sight of the guards. 

"We make good trophies either way," Jim replied tightly, stepping out into the group of images. Leonard followed, careful not to stand on top of the small discs. They blended in well enough, their uniforms they had on now were slightly different from the ones they wore in the holograms, but nothing that couldn't be seen at a distance. The Klingon guards stopped in their tracks at the multitude of Kirks and McCoys, maybe a dozen in total, that stood in front of them.

Leonard could hear them screaming at him and Jim. A moment later, the universal translator yelled in his ear, "Stand aside! Stand over there!" 

"Hello honey!" he called out when he saw Jim mimicking the hologram. Then the Klingons approached, stabbing at each image of them. When they stepped on a disc it cracked, the images disappearing until there was just a few left. 

The guards got closer and closer, one of them turning and looking straight into his eyes. He wanted to look at Jim, but he couldn't turn his head, not with the Klingon standing _right there_. "Hello honey!" Leonard told him, seeing rage in the Klingon's eyes and he braced himself for the knife-

 

And there it was, the familiar tingle of transporting, and he had never in his life been so grateful to be disintegrated into a million pieces. When he opened his eyes, all the air left his chest as he glimpsed the sterile white transporter bay, the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. "God dammit, Jim!" he exhaled, turning and clipping Jim in the shoulder. "You knew?"

"What?" Jim asked, stepping off the transporter, nodding at the technicians and heading toward the door, Leonard in tow. "What did I know?"

"That Spock was going to come in and get us?"

"That? Oh yeah," Jim said matter-of-factly as they jogged out the door into the corridor. "We had that planned, as soon as we could get to the surface. We just needed to get free of the magnetic shield of the prison. There he is," Jim added, pointing at Spock, who was rapidly approaching them. 

Leonard stopped. "Then why the hell didn't you tell me?" he asked, wrinkling his nose as Jim leaned in and kissed him. 

"Because you, Bones, have the worst poker face I've ever seen on anyone I've ever met. No way you could keep the secret. You had to look scared to make this work, or they were gonna know something was up."

"I wasn't scared."

"The hell you weren't. But that was good, we needed that sort of anxiety to throw them off. Besides," Jim said, pulling Leonard into his arms for one last hug, "you'd have been even more worried if you knew what we were plotting." 

Leonard opened his mouth to argue when Spock stopped them both. "If you are both finished," he began, and both Jim and Leonard chuckled a little, those endorphins swimming through his body, relief that they were home.

But not completely out of danger. "Sorry, Spock. Just a little happy to be here. Please, what have you figured out?"

"Several items of great importance," Spock said, and for the first time Leonard realized that something was very wrong. 

Jim picked up on that as well. "What's going on?" 

"Quite a bit." Spock led them down to Engineering, where Scotty waited in his office. "Good to see you, sir," he said, before leading them to a large computer screen. 

"Why are we here?"

Spock and Scotty stared at each other. "I have concerns about security on board the _Enterprise_." 

"Security?" Jim asked, disbelief in his voice. 

"Aye," Scotty told him. "First, we discovered that according to the ship's records, we did in fact fire on the Klingon ship."

"That's what I was told-"

"But it's a lie, Admiral."

"Then how-" Jim started, and Leonard could see a cold realization settling over him. "The records were tampered with."

"Yes, Admiral." 

"Someone did that on purpose." 

Scotty and Spock looked at each other, then turned toward them. "Yes, Admiral."


	6. Enterprise

This above all: to thine own self be true,  
And it must follow, as the night the day,  
Thou canst not then be false to any man.  
Hamlet, Act I Scene 3

 

The modern Vulcan has accepted that physical contact, while uncomfortable, is a real facet of living and working with non-Vulcans. Deep down, however, they are tactile creatures, and relish the those occasions when touch is permitted and accepted.  
Leonard H McCoy, _Comparative Alien Physiology_ (2293)

 

* * *

 

Sabotage. It boggled Jim's mind. There was no way he could imagine a crew of his doing this - but then again, this wasn't his ship anymore. Too many years behind a desk. Maybe Bones was right. "What else is there?"

Spock's spine went rigid, and Jim knew this was bad. "Jim," Scotty began, "I think you should look at this." 

It had been a long time since Jim coded programs himself, but this series of commands was elegant in its sleek design. The subroutine was simple and straight to the point. "Who wrote this?" he asked. 

"According to the computer records, I did," Spock said, his voice even and calm. "My credentials were used to install a program to make it appear as if the _Enterprise_ fired upon the Klingon ship."

Spock may have been able to keep that calm mien, but Jim could not keep the shock off his face. "No," he said, shaking his head. It was inconceivable. "And you are certain that we did not fire."

"It was not us, though it appeared in our records that we had done so. However, a visual inspection of the torpedo bays showed that we had a full inventory." 

"Then who fired on the Klingons?"

"We have determined it to be a cloaked ship."

The only people with cloaked ships were Klingons. "Why would Klingons fire on their own?" Leonard asked, confused with all of this.

But Jim knew why. Understood why. "Not everyone is as prepared for this peace. It is even possible the cloaked ship followed the Chancellor's battle cruiser here."

A conspiracy. "Attacked by his own people," Scotty shook his head. "Unimaginable."

Spock seemed to agree. "Laid at the Federation doorstep. It is a story we have seen before, Jim."

"That it is. Any suspects?" Jim asked, curious what else they had turned up but almost afraid to know. 

"Yes," Spock told him grimly. "And I have an idea how to flush the suspect out."

 

 

The following ship-wide announcement was made an hour later. "This is Admiral James T Kirk. I have beamed back aboard the _Enterprise_ , and assumed command of this ship. Additionally, Ambassador Spock has been removed from his duties and arrested, and is confined to the brig. We are heading back to Earth to hand him over to the Federation authorities. That is all."

 

 

The brig was dark, the only lights coming from Spock's cell. Jim sat back on the far end of the room in the shadows, watching Spock sitting cross-legged on the floor, his eyes closed in what Jim recognized as a meditative state. 

They only waited an hour. Jim crouched low but Valeris' eyes weren't seeking him out. 

She approached the clear wall of the cell. "Father," she said, lifting a hand to the glass.

"Daughter." Spock's eyes remained closed, his voice still calm and even. 

She knelt down toward the floor. "Why are you here?"

Spock opened his eyes and looked at her. "You know as well as I. My credentials were used to reprogram the ship's logs."

"Admiral Kirk knows you are not guilty." 

"What the Admiral knows is that my credentials were used. That in and of itself is enough to convict me."

"That is lunacy." Jim could hear a touch of reproach in Valeris' voice. 

"Perhaps. In any event, I resigned my commission and surrendered myself. It is my understanding that I will be tried at the Federation headquarters." 

At that moment the brig doors slid open, and Jim saw Security bringing in another man. Valeris' eyes went wide. "Sovar," she whispered, watching as guards placed in the cell next to Spock. She stood, as did Spock. "You should not be here."

"My politics are well known," Sovar replied coolly, a little shrug of his shoulder. "It is only natural that I am suspected if my father has been arrested. I submitted willingly, and will stand trial if need be."

"But Father is innocent. As are you."

The lights flicked on. "How can you be so sure?" Jim stood, approaching her. "Doesn't it make sense that Spock would do this for his son? Or that his son would use his father's credentials to aid his compatriots in their plot." Jim stared at both the Vulcans behind the glass. "One, or both of them is going to prison. And there will be no _Enterprise_ rescuing them this time."

"Admiral," Valeris reached out and grabbed Jim's arm. "You cannot do this."

"Then do the right thing," Jim told her, "and confess." Her face froze. "If it makes you feel any better, we already know it was you. I just needed to make sure that you were acting alone." Turning to Sovar, he nodded. "My apologies for dragging you into this."

The doors swung open, and Sovar walked out, followed by Spock. "Understood, Admiral," he said, a confused look on the young Vulcan's face. "Valeris?" he asked, unsettled by what was happening.

Spock approached Valeris. "Why?"

Something changed on her face, the mask of cool logic dropping slightly, revealing strong emotions simmering just below the surface. "You do not listen to him, you never have." Spock looked shocked at this but Valeris continued. "Sovar has tried to explain to you for years, and you would not listen. Over and over you preferred the words of our enemies to your own son, trusting in others but not him. Too many years bowing to Starfleet's whims rather than building our planet's defenses." 

"A strong united Federation only serves to protect-"

"Did the Federation protect your planet?" Valeris snapped, interrupting Spock.

Spock stepped back at that, Jim moving closer to his friend. "Ensign, that is enough."

"Sovar's fight is just. There can be no peace, not until we are ready. The Klingons will join the Federation and decimate what is left of our people. Already we are diluted, so many _Shavokh_ marrying into our families."

"Valeris!" Sovar called out, looking shocked at this outburst, but Spock's voice dropped low, icy cold. 

"You are speaking to someone who married a human. You are speaking to the son of a _Shavokh_. _Shavokh_ raised you when you were alone and had no one." It had been many years since Jim saw Spock angry, but this was getting close, his voice rising. Apparently neither of his children had seen this either, as they both stared, no one able to speak. 

Finally Jim spoke. "Valeris, I need you to tell me what you know."

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I will not tell you. You may take my confession, Captain. Release these men, you have your criminal. What I did I did willingly to further my brother's cause, though he knew nothing of my plans to assist him." There was a flash of triumph in her burning eyes. "But that is all you are getting from me."

"You are mistaken." Jim saw Spock watching Valeris, his eyes filled with disappointment. "I will have my answers." Everyone's eyes went wide at the sight of Spock's hand forming that claw, three fingers reaching for her psi points. 

Valeris whispered, "Father," her eyes pleading but Spock did not stop, fingers sliding across her skin until they found their place. 

Both of them went still and rigid and a shiver ran down Jim's back at the memory of his own meld. The violence and emotions that swam through him, memories of the other Spock, bits and pieces of another life, another Jim. _My thoughts to yours._

This was different. Spock wasn't giving memories, he was taking, rummaging around inside her thoughts, looking for the threads and strands associated with this conspiracy and Jim knew enough about melds to understand the the damage that might be done to Valeris. 

But people had died. "Names," Jim said coldly, pushing aside his own memories of this woman as a child running around Spock's house, as a cadet in his Academy, as an officer on his ship. "We need names." 

One by one she listed them, slowly, as if pulled from her unwillingly. Tears filled her eyes, and Spock's as well, as she whispered the words. "Cartwright... Nanclus… Chang..." 

Of course, Jim thought bitterly. A human, a Romulan, and a Klingon, all using a Vulcan to get them out of the way. "An assassination plot. Another peace conference…" Spock closed his eyes. "They are going to try and kill High Chancellor Azetbur and derail the peace treaty for good."

Spock's face made Jim's heart hurt. Even Sovar appeared uncomfortable, helpless. "Where is the conference?" he asked her, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. 

Spock dug deeper, deeper until Valeris cried out. "She doesn't know," he told Jim, his voice breaking with emotion as he pulled away, and pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she sobbed. 

The room was silent a moment, only Valeris' deep breaths making any sort of noise. But everyone was still in danger, this whole peace plan could be in jeopardy, not to mention the probe heading toward Federation space.

In a fraction of a second it hit him. Without saying a word, Jim took off toward the bridge, passing Nyota rushing in, leaving Spock and his family to begin the process of mending in private. 

He burst onto the bridge, slightly out of breath. "Get me Captain Hikaru Sulu on the _Excelsior_. Right now."


	7. Khitomer

Once more unto the breach, dear friends.  
Henry V, Act III Scene 1

Throughout history, it is apparent that when a civilization accepts the cross-link between a patient's physiology and psychology and their effects on one another, amazing transformations happen in their medical practices.  
Leonard H McCoy, _Comparative Alien Physiology_ (2293)

* * *

Sulu came through.

Khitomer, a Klingon colony near the border of their empire. All in all, not a bad idea - if you really wanted to get something accomplished in a hurry, have your conference in a planetary system with a big bullseye on it. One way to get results. 

Another hour until the _Enterprise _would be in transporting range. They traveled at yellow alert, knowing they had a target on their own back. The Klingons were none too pleased at Kirk and McCoy's escape from Rura Penthe, and apparently had vetoed any notion of having the meeting anywhere they could not be in charge of their security.__

__To be honest, Jim was surprised they were still willing to try. When he heard Chancellor Gorkon's daughter had taken up his mantle and promised to deliver the peace in her father's name, something stirred inside him. Could it be real? Maybe, _just maybe_ this wasn't just about sharing weapon tech to bring down a common enemy. Maybe - this was about something bigger. _ _

__If she was willing to do this, then he could do no less._ _

__But right now, the name Jim Kirk and the _Enterprise_ were cursed words on Klingon tongues, so they had to improvise. Starfleet's orders had been to return to Earth immediately to mitigate any Klingon retribution, but Nyota took care of that. "Our chief engineer assures me that impulse power is all we have for the time being, but we'll be able to manage warp three in a day or two," she relayed to Starfleet, taking a shift at her old Communication station for old time's sake. _ _

__

__

__In truth, the _Enterprise_ was currently sliding back toward Klingon space at warp 8. Jim's away teams were ready, all the orders had been given. Everyone going planetside understood their role in what was about to happen, and the dangers involved. But this was for more than just peace - Jim had to believe that what the Klingons had told Spock was the truth, that if there was another probe heading toward Federation space, they knew the location and would help them. _ _

__Space. Jim stood in his ready room, staring out at the stars he loved, so engrossed in his thoughts that he did not hear the chirp of the door signalling that it opened and closed._ _

__"Admiral."_ _

__Jim didn't turn around. "Surely we've come too far to fall back on titles, Spock. Or are you here on business?" Jim asked. He heard Spock approach, settle at his side. How many years had they been like this, the two of them working together and fighting together. As angry as Jim had been at Spock for conscripting him into this assignment, he understood. Worse, he knew Spock knew he'd understand._ _

__Too many years. "Do you remember that day, when you had me brought up on charges?" Decades ago and Jim still remembered that feeling, that someone could take all of his dreams away from him with just a few words. "You were such an asshole."_ _

__"Indeed." Spock made a noise. "But you did cheat."_ _

__Long sigh. "Maybe." The two of them stood for another minute without speaking. "How much longer are you planning on doing this?" he asked, point to the window, the stars._ _

__Spock considered the question for a few moments before he answered. "It had been my intention to remain in San Francisco, assisting in the transition of the Federation-Klingon alliance . But with the death of Spock, my other self…" Spock hesitated. "My presence might be required on New Vulcan."_ _

__"Required?" Jim asked, quirking a brow._ _

__"I would volunteer, of course. It is possible my father would return and take up the Elder Spock's place in directing our society." Spock hesitated, then added, "Perhaps Valeris was correct in that regard. I have held Starfleet's needs higher than that of my own people."_ _

__"Because that was your job, Spock. You did what you were supposed to do."_ _

__"In retrospect, Jim, I am not certain I can agree."_ _

__Jim understood, a little, especially after seeing the damage done to Spock's family. "Regrets, Spock?"_ _

__Spock considered the question. "Disappointment."_ _

__"In Valeris?" Jim asked._ _

__"Oh no, Jim. In myself. I failed her, somewhere, as a father, as a mentor. She needed guidance and I was elsewhere."_ _

__Those words didn't surprise him Jim. "I guess that's something else we both failed at. Do you know what the last words I said to my son were?" Jim stared straight out into the stars, his voice flat , devoid of the turmoil rumbling inside him. "David… he and I fought about what Starfleet meant, what its mission was becoming. He couldn't see past the militarization, the weapons. I told him that he'd never understand Starfleet because he was scared, that he'd run away from the challenge." Of course Jim hadn't meant it, and had planned on apologizing as soon as they got together, but-_ _

__But._ _

__"Jim," Spock began, "I believe if there are self-made purgatories, then we all have to live in them."_ _

__"No," Jim shook his head. "I believe that we can learn from mistakes. It is only by understanding what we did wrong that we can avoid that mistake again. And then sometimes," Jim admitted, "sometimes we don't have the luxury of making choices, we just have to act." He got quiet as a memory filled his thoughts. "You remember what Admiral Pike used to tell us?"_ _

__Spock took a breath, and Jim knew he missed the man as much as Jim did. "He would tell us to 'leap before we looked'." Spock shook his head. "I must admit, I never liked that advice."_ _

__"But you followed it."_ _

__"I followed you, Jim."_ _

__They were quiet a moment before Jim spoke again. "Are we too old for this? I mean, have we reached an age where we can't make a move without over-analyzing each step, all the ramifications?"_ _

__"You suggest that space exploration is a young person's occupation?"_ _

__"I am saying that I've become rigid in ways I never expected to become. Drawn lines in the sand and refused to step over them on because of petty differences. Does any of this make sense?" Spock just looked at him in that way he did, and Jim felt very much like he did when they were young, and Spock's job was to challenge him. Little did Jim know back then how valuable that experience would be in his life. "I've been given the chance to break this wall I've built up, to show David, and myself what Starfleet is supposed to be - exploration, peacekeeping, diplomacy. " He rested a hand on Spock's shoulder. "Perhaps you can show your daughter - all of your children that as well."_ _

__

__The _Enterprise_ finally reached Klingon space. They managed to dodge and avoid the ships patrolling Khitomer's perimeter, getting close enough to the planet to beam down two landing parties. Jim would go down first with Chekov, Scotty, and Spock, each with instructions to target a different traitor to the peace plan. _ _

__Looking up at Bones, Jim gave him a little wink before the tingle swept over him. As soon as they materialized, the sounds of shock swept through the crowd and he knew they had the element of surprise on their side. They were in a large circular room, a hundred people in all manner of uniforms and ceremonial garb talking and murmuring loudly as Jim and his team each spotted their targets and began sweeping the room. Jim spotted Azetbur walking toward a podium, Chang following close behind, guarding her. Her eyes widened as she spotted Jim walking toward her, and just as Chang stepped in front of her, he tackled Chang, pushing him away from Azetbur._ _

__At that moment, Spock reached for Azetbur, pulling her away from the podium seconds before it exploded, splintering it into dozens of pieces._ _

__"Got'em, Admiral!" Looking up into the mezzanine, Jim spotted Chekov's arms around Romulan Ambassador Nanclus, Scotty pointing a phaser at him._ _

__Chang used Jim's momentary distraction to shove an elbow into his side. Pushing away from Jim, he began running when Spock stood in front of him. "It is over, Chang." Pointing at the back of the room, Jim could see a handcuffed Valeris, standing with Nyota at her side, one arm around her. Chang froze, surrounded by _Enterprise_ security, who were then surrounded by Klingons. _ _

__More Starfleet uniforms, as Jim spotted Hikaru Sulu and his team rushing into the room, blocking the door. "You're not going anywhere," Sulu said to Admiral Cartwright, who had tried to leave as soon as he spotted a handcuffed Valeris._ _

__Chancellor Azetbur watched all of this in shock as her own Klingon guards rushed into the room, aiming their own weapons on Jim and his crew. "Wait!" she called out, staring at Chang, frozen in place. "Explain yourself," she said, but it was not Chang she addressed._ _

__It was Jim._ _

__She believed him. "Chancellor, we uncovered a plot to disrupt the peace conference. They planned on assassinating you, knowing that would end all change for an alliance between our people."_ _

__"This alliance will end us," Chang spat out, glancing around at the other Klingons, looking for support. "Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!"_ _

__But no one rallied to his side. "Get him out of my sight," Azetbur told the guards, who dragged Chang out of the room, still yelling. stepping slowly in front of Jim, she took a deep breath, looking around the room and for the first time, she offered Jim what looked like a real smile. "Admiral Kirk, it would seem I owe you an apology. You saved my life, and our chance at an alliance."_ _

__He returned that smile with one of his own. "I owed you that, Chancellor, for what happened to your father. He was the hero here, it was his bravery that brought us to this point." Jim looked around the room, now quiet as people began listening to his words. "I was wrong, I know that now. I was afraid of the future, of a place where people like me weren't needed. I guess I forgot about what it was like when we first started, about discovering new people and new species, about the unknown adventures. The undiscovered country, that's what your father called it."_ _

__"This was my father's dream. "_ _

__Jim smiled, coming to a sad realization. "This was my son's dream as well."_ _

__"I would like to know more about him." And just like that, something inside Jim opened up, like an egg cracking. Azetbur wasn't just a Klingon, she was _Azetbur_ , and the possibility of friendship existed in a way that had somehow been inconceivable moments before. _ _

__"I would like that." Then Jim saw them all gathered in a small group in the center of the room._ _

__His crew, who'd followed him once more._ _

__

__Four hours later, Leonard was still wrapping his head around the events of the day. Once the handshakes and congratulations were done, all parties headed back to their respective corners to regroup and think, talk and plan about the new world order that would soon exist, a world where Klingons and the Federation no longer fought each other._ _

__True to their word, the Klingons relayed in the information about the probe to Jim and the _Enterprise_ crew, who transmitted it to Starfleet High Command to investigate. Fruits of the new alliance._ _

__But in many ways, it felt like old times, watching how Jim and Spock had led their teams into the conference and saved the day once more. They all talked about it that night, Jim inviting the gang back to the _Enterprise_ for dinner and conversation. Later, Jim invited them to visit the bridge, the current crew members on board watching with a mixture of fondness and curiosity as the former crew reminisced. _ _

__Jim asked the younger crew to clear the bridge for a few minutes, allowing them a chance to have some private time and soon, and it was only them, Jim's first crew. "I wanted to thank you all for what you did for me today. We did good work," he told them, looking each person in the eye, "and I couldn't have asked for better friends to do this with me." He snorted, shrugging. "Saved the day, again, all because of you guys."_ _

__"And you, Jim," Hikaru told him, the others nodding. "Wouldn't feel right leaping into trouble behind anyone else but you."_ _

__"I'll take that as a compliment," Jim said, moving to stand near Leonard. "No more Klingon neutral zone. Hard to believe."_ _

__"Seems so long ago," Sulu said as he shook his head, fingers trailing along the helm console. "And then at times, it seems like just yesterday."_ _

__Chekov sat down in his old chair, audibly sighing. "Those were good times," he added wistfully._ _

__Nyota slipped her arm around Jim, and he smiled, hugging her back. "So, what happens now for you two?" she asked. "Back to the Academy to torture the next generation of students? And back to Medical for you, Leonard?"_ _

__Jim turned his head toward Leonard, chuckling in that way of his, eyes crinkling up. "If they'll have a couple of felons like us back." Leonard just snorted. He knew that he and Jim would have to talk about what the next few years would bring. Then Jim continued. "I understand that the _Excelsior's_ first mission went so well they are sending you out for another two years, Captain Sulu."_ _

__"It's not official," Hikaru admitted, unable to hide the smile, "but yes, we ship out in a month. So, what happens to this old girl?" Glancing at one of the computer terminals, he made a 'hmpf' noise. "Probably time for a retrofit, there's some equipment that should be upgraded before she goes back out."_ _

__"She's not going back out." Everyone turned at the sound of Scotty's voice. "The _Enterprise_ has received her final set of orders. She is to return to Spacedock to be decommissioned." Suddenly the room got very quiet, and Leonard felt like someone kicked him in the stomach. _ _

__Judging from their faces, they all did, even Spock affected by those words._ _

__Chekov exhaled long and hard. "Admiral, it doesn't seem right."_ _

__Just then -_ _

__A series of beeps from the communication panel caught everyone's attention. "That's a Federation distress signal," Nyota murmured, stepping toward the station, tapping at the console._ _

"On-screen," Jim said, instinctively walking toward his chair and sitting down as the message began to play. It was unbelievable, watching the Federation president standing in front of a podium, issuing a planetary distress signal. " _At this time, the probe has reached Earth and neutralized the Earth Spacedock, all ships have been disabled. All power sources have failed, and all Earth-orbiting starships are powerless. The probe is vaporizing Earth's oceans and unless we can find a way to respond, we will not survive. All ships should save their energy and save themselves. Avoid the planet Earth at all costs._ " Then the screen went black. 

___Avoid the planet Earth_. Glancing at Spock, he saw his friend's face, remembering the first time they joined together to save their home. "Nyota, can you play the probe's signal so we can hear it?" and within a few seconds the sound filled the bridge, loud and screechy. _ _

__Jim pondered this for a few moments, half listening to Leonard and Spock bickering to themselves about something. "Ideas?"_ _

__Spock stepped forward. "Admiral, the probe and this sound is being pointed at Earth's oceans. Perhaps it is meant for another life form other than humans." After adjusting the probe's signal, Jim watched as Spock moved to his old science station, fingers tapping quickly as he found the answer - and it was shocking._ _

__"Whale song." Spock began playing a recording that sounded eerily like the probe, almost haunting and sad._ _

__"Can we just send that back to them?"_ _

__"It'll sound like gibberish," Nyota answered, shaking her head._ _

__"We need whales. Live whales." But there were no whales, not anymore; the species went extinct over a hundred years ago. But Jim knew where they were. Or rather, _when_. "Scotty, can we enclose the cargo bay to hold water?" he asked, the kernel of an idea forming in his head. Crazy, it was a crazy idea - but could it be done?_ _

__"Aye," Scotty nodded, his face furrowing. Another glance at Spock, who seemed to understand what he was thinking._ _

__"I want all non-essential crew to get off, now. Sulu, can you put them on the _Excelsior_ , at least until we get back?" _ _

__"Of course," Hikaru murmured, stepping over to the communication station and speaking quickly to his first officer._ _

__This was dangerous. Beyond dangerous. Jim caught Spock's eye. _Can you do this? _____

____Spock's brow raised, as if slighted. _Of course I can._ _ _ _ _

____Then Jim looked at Leonard, who just shrugged. "You know what you're doing, Jim?" he asked, not questioning Jim, just… asking._ _ _ _

_____Just like old times_ , Jim thought to himself. Yeah, he was sure. Looking around, he knew this could work. The _Enterprise_ , beautiful in his eyes, always, was older, outdated, and ready for a rest. _ _ _ _

____So was his crew. But Jim knew this would work. "One more time, guys, into the black. We've got a planet to save." Jim said, looking each of them in the eyes. "I'm looking for volunteers to come along for one more ride."_ _ _ _

____"Who's with me?"_ _ _ _


	8. Epilogue

There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,  
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.  
Hamlet, Act I Scene 5

 

Anatomy and physiology. Form and function. The secrets of the universe lie within those two words.  
Leonard H McCoy, _Comparative Alien Physiology_ (2293)

* * *

_Stardate 2364_

 

"Are you ready to head back, sir?"

"I told you, Christopher, you don't have to call me that. Not when it's just us, anyway." The blond young man in cadet reds pushing Jim's wheelchair seemed dazzled as they turned each corner, looking at the spaceship and being introduced to new people. At one point he grinned widely at two female crew members walking past, turning his head and saying 'hello' to them. "Apples don't fall far from the tree," Jim murmured to himself, wondering if he'd looked so foolish back when he was twenty-two, all cock-sure and hungry for adventure. 

"Did you say something, Grandpa Jim?" Christopher asked, looking down at him. It was generally accepted that young Chris looked like the old images of George Kirk, something that pleased Jim tremendously when he found himself staring at the handsome young man who'd volunteered to travel with them this summer. 

"Just muttering to myself," Jim answered, quieting down as he heard some familiar rumblings. "I think we found him," he added, pointing a bony hand toward a corridor. "He's coming, over there."

"Well, this is a new ship, but she's got the right name. The best name, you remember that, you hear?" Jim could hear Leonard's overloud voice ringing from around the corner, as he walked with one of the ship's officers. 

They turned the corner, and Jim spotted them, Bones' hair as thick as it was when they met, but stark white. "I will, sir," said the man with the golden skin and pale eyes, and for a moment Jim wondered if his eyes were failing. 

Leonard hadn't seen him yet. "You treat her like a lady, and she'll always bring you home." Turning his head, he saw Jim and Christopher. "There you are," Leonard said, as if he hadn't known exactly where Jim was. Since the accident, Leonard didn't like leaving Jim out of his sight for long. "I've got it from here," he said, taking the chair handles from Christopher. "Lieutenant Commander Data, would you mind showing our great-grandson around the ship? He's gonna be another starship captain, I reckon he'd like to see this beauty in action."

"Of course, I would be delighted. Admiral McCoy, Admiral Kirk," Data nodded at both of them, then led the young man toward one of the lifts. 

"That there is an android, Jim," Leonard told him matter-of-factly once the others were out of earshot. "They got a synthetic serving on board this ship - as an _officer_." 

"You don't say," Jim looked up, turning his head back to look, but they were gone. "Was that him?" he asked, curious and wishing he'd paid more attention. He'd heard about the android when he'd enrolled at the Academy back in the forties, causing quite the stir. "What do you think?"

"Reminded me of Spock," Leonard replied dryly as he rolled Jim slowly back to their guest quarters. "Too smart for his own britches."

 

 

Later that night, they ate a small dinner in their rooms, declining the captain's invitation to join him, but promising to dine with him tomorrow. "Chris seemed to be enjoying himself quite a bit today," Bones said, wheeling Jim over to the bed as they prepared for bed. "But we'll have to get the boy back to San Francisco soon, Academy classes are starting next month."

Jim nodded slowly. "I've enjoyed having him around." Looking around the guest quarters, Jim let out a low whistle. Everything on board seemed so slick and shiny. "Strange, isn't it?"

"What."

"Being here, on board the _Enterprise_ ," Jim said, making air quotes with his hands. "She's not our ship."

"No," Bones said, helping Jim up onto the bed, tucking his legs under the sheets. "Hasn't been ours for a long time." He gave Jim a sharp look, those hazel eyes still keen and cutting. "We had a good run out there, don't you go forgetting that."

"No chance of that," Jim said, nudging him with his elbow as Bones settled in next to him. "I know we tried to keep it quiet, but I think some of them are on to us. Have you met the Klingon on board?" 

Leonard lifted his head. "There's a Klingon here?"

"One of Worf's family. House of Mogh. Introduced himself to me," Jim leaned back, memories flooding back. "He was the one, you remember, the first one at the Academy. Back in the late fifties." 

"I remember," Bones murmured. It had been controversial, even after all that happened. Jim Kirk had long since officially retired from Starfleet, but when asked to make a statement, he not only supported it, but publicly call for more Klingons to enroll. "These kids are all so fucking young."

"You're just fucking old."

Bones snorted, taking Jim's hand in his own. _Old hands_ , Jim thought, gnarled and bony. There had been times after the accident when he'd felt sorry for himself, after they told him his legs were useless. 

Then he'd look at his hands, old and wrinkled, and he'd see the wide gold band on his left hand, and Leonard's matching ring and Jim remembered - there had been another Jim Kirk once, another timeline. That Jim had been a hero, it was true. A great man, a great Captain - but he hadn't lived long enough to break his back falling off a horse. That Jim hadn't found the love of his life when he was just a young, dumb, kid, somehow talking his best friend into marrying him, spending their lives together. 

That Jim hadn't spent his retirement years reading about Earth's history, publishing stories about his travels or dragging his husband all over the planet they saved more than once. After a life lived in space, Jim Kirk loved spending time at their little home in Colorado, seeing his family grow, and reading about the exploits of others who had followed him.

And he loved having Bones at his side. There was a running joke around Starfleet that Leonard McCoy had kept Jim Kirk together in one piece with duct tape and sheer will - and there was more truth to that than people knew. He'd have been dead a hundred times over had it not been for his Bones, he knew this. "So, what's next?"

"I dunno," Bones said thoughtfully, settling into his side of the bed. "Being home sounds good," and Jim understood, he really did. 

The day's events had wearied him more than he'd wanted to admit to Bones, but it had been worth it, seeing this ship. Yes, it wasn't his lady, but she carried his girl's name and her legacy. A real beauty, good for another forty or fifty years if they were lucky, took care of her. 

Jim snorted quietly. Space wasn't peaceful like that, as much as Jim wanted it to be. What did Bones say that day so long ago? Disease and danger, wrapped in darkness and silence... and maybe Bones had the right of it, but there was so much more to it than that. Space was also full of life and colors and every amazing idea that could ever be imagined.

 _Space_ , he mused to himself, his eyes closing. Just then Bones' arms wrapped around him, lips brushing his forehead and all of time and space disappeared, the entire universe narrowed down to this bed, this man. 

 

 

_What are we gonna call him?_

_We could name him after your father._

_Tiberius? You kidding me? No, that's the worst._

_It really wasn't so bad,_ Jim thought to himself, drifting off.

* * *

Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air… We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.  
The Tempest, Act IV Scene 1

 

The End


	9. Music Mix

So, this mix. 

It's really a double mix. The first seven songs are for the first seven fics in this series, just music that reminds me of them. The last ten are really about this last story.

  


|[download](http://www.sendspace.com/file/867qth)| |[listen](http://8tracks.com/sullacat/my-heart-never-stops-beating-for-you)|

**My Heart Never Stops Beating For You**  
a mix for Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

**The Other Side** \- Jason Derulo ♦ **I'll Stand By You** \- The Pretenders ♦ **Blue Moon Revisited** \- Cowboy Junkies ♦ **Need You Now** \- Lady Antebellum ♦ **Two is Better than One** \- Boys Like Girls feat. Taylor Swift ♦ **All Along the Watchtower** \- Bear McCreary ♦ **Across the Universe** \- Jim Sturgess

 

**Carry On** \- Fun ♦ **Hallelujah** \- Kate Voegele ♦ **Hopeless Wanderer** \- Mumford and Sons ♦ **Counting Stars** \- One Republic ♦ **Wake Me Up** \- Avicii ♦ **A Love that Will Never Grow Old** Emmylou Harris ♦ **100 Years** \- Five for Fighting ♦ **A Thousand Miles** \- Boyce Avenue feat. Alex Goot ♦ **The Dance** \- George Strait ♦ **Gone Gone Gone** \- Phillip Phillips

**Author's Note:**

> This story started in late summer 2009, as a conclusion to the series that I had begun earlier that summer. The first written in that story in that series, [Across the Universe](http://sullacat.livejournal.com/82187.html), about an older Jim and Bones, was the first story I wrote in the Trek fandom, and the positive reception it got spurred me on to write the others. 
> 
> Then my fic writing sort of stalled, because of my RP game - a different sort of writing and there were other Jim and Bones stories to tell. But I always had these guys in my head, and I needed to end things properly for them. The final scene I've had written for nearly three years. It was the rest that eluded me. 
> 
> There are people to thank, who have listened to me talk about this since 2009. Altilis, Kinderjedi, and Steamedporkbun - they are great Trek fans and even better friends, pushing my to finally finish what I've been talking about for four years. Their contributions are immeasurable.
> 
> I do not think I will write this universe anymore - their story is complete. There are other stories for Jim and Bones to be written, so many more in me (I hope), but this little universe is complete now to me, and it makes me sad - but they are done. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. ♥♥♥


End file.
